Hearts in Chaos
by GenesisArclite
Summary: Knowledge previously unknown to Lightning gives her the ability to hold sway over and defeat Caius in Valhalla, but she must become his immortal companion to stop him for good and he must agree to return with her to New Bodhum. In an ever-changing world, the two must overcome their pasts and face the future together... as both now share the Heart of Chaos.
1. Chaos Theory

_**1 Chaos Theory**_

It was beginning to look as though there were nothing at all of interest in the entire expanse of this desolate future world. After stumbling out of the gate leading to Noel's dream world, hoping to find Valhalla or at least someplace with some greenery, they had only found more of the same. Serah was beginning to think they would never find a way to Lightning at all.

"Let's keep poking around," Noel said. "Usually the gates are pretty close together. We shouldn't have to go far to find one."

Serah wasn't so sure. "Maybe. But– wait, what's that?"

Some distance away in the middle of the village, a slender golden pillar of light had appeared out of thin air. The two travelers exchanged glances before advancing toward it. There was no telling what might come out – more rift monsters, or even their adversary, or something even more horrible. They stuck close together as they walked with their hands ready to reach for their weapons.

There wasn't any wind. Everything was so cold and dry that there was nothing to block it even if there had been any. The sun was long gone, leaving a faint touch of bronze in the sky. The stars were coming out and all was peaceful with absolutely no other noise besides their breathing. The only source of light beyond the stars and the fading light was the golden distortion before them – one that flared bright and threatened to ignite the air before a slender human shape walked out of it.

The air may have been cold, but in that moment, Serah felt as though a brilliant new sun had risen to heat the world and bring back life.

It was her sister. Her dear sister, just as she had looked in the images of the Oracle Drives they had come across in their journey, walking out of the golden distortion with the dignified steps she had come to expect from a woman who had spent most of her life at war. Except for her downcast expression and lowered chin and strange Valkyrian armor, this meeting was no different than any of their others.

"Lightning?" Serah almost gasped the word. "What– you're _here_."

The woman looked up, something unreadable in her blue eyes – was that despair? Sadness? Even grief? "This is a future I couldn't save," she murmured.

But Serah didn't care about that. "You're here. You're _here_. I mean– we came all this– how did– is it really–?"

"You doubt me?"

Serah hesitated. "Well…"

"No, no," Lightning interrupted, smiling and shaking her head. "That you doubt anything… I'm glad. After all that's happened, it's good to doubt. You're growing up."

Serah brightened. "It _is_ you, isn't it?" She stared at her sister a bit longer. They had come across space and time in a long journey to find this woman as she'd been told, and from her perspective it had been three years since the two sisters had seen each other last. _Three years_, during which most people, except Snow, thought she was crazy for believing Lightning was even still alive with no evidence to prove that belief.

She spent a second fighting her childlike urge before bounding forward and throwing her arms around Lightning's torso, strange silver armor and fluffy white feathers and all. Noel gave a grunt of surprise while Lightning stumbled before returning the hug. Serah felt warm all over, better than she had in way too long.

Lightning chuckled. "I'm glad to see you too, Serah."

The other woman hung on a moment longer before prying herself away. There would be time enough for that later, when everything was all over and everyone was safe – time enough for reunions and happy moments once all the important things were taken care of.

"And Noel – you've been doing very well, taking care of her." Lightning nodded to the darkhaired boy, who looked embarrassed.

Serah could barely contain both her excitement and her million questions. Before another five seconds had passed, they tumbled out like a busted levy. "Where have you been? In Valhalla, all this time? What about Cocoon and saving the future? I've been looking all over for you! Did you really disappear? Did you–"

"Serah," Lightning said, and gently touched her shoulder. There was something in her eyes that spoke volumes in a way her voice just didn't. "Just listen. I can explain everything."

"Really, everything?" Noel put in.

"From Valhalla, I can see the entire timeline," Lightning said. "Now that we are together again, I can tell you how we came to this terrible fate, and about the one who wants to destroy the future."

Noel growled softly. "Caius."

Lightning walked past them now, crunching across dead twigs and rattling stones underfoot, the _click_ of her armor and the rustle of the feathers the only other sound now. Serah listened to the sounds as they all came together in an alien symphony she couldn't quite catch the entire rhythm of. Lightning walked until she reached the rickety foot of the steps leading up to the old Bodhum pier, half of which had snapped off long ago. What remained stretched over a badly-eroded seafloor void of water with the remains of sea creatures littering the bottom. She stepped up onto it, where it creaked in pain.

The two travelers listened as Lightning explained everything that had happened so far – about how chaos had come into the world and dragged Lightning away as Etro had reversed the damage she'd accidentally caused by freeing her and the others from their l'Cie fate; how Lightning had tumbled through the Historia Crux and watched time become a surreal freefall of paradoxes and bizarre twists of fate; how she had been written out of history in the meantime; how she had ended up in Valhalla and taken up the mantle of being Etro protector; how she had seen the sad future of mankind and resolved to prevent it.

"It would be my atonement for everything I had ever done," she finished, facing them now. "Caius wants to destroy the future and all hope. We cannot fail if the world is to go on."

There were a few moments of silence.

"So," Noel murmured, "chaos came into our world, warped the timeline, and formed the paradoxes. Makes sense."

"Lightning," Serah was almost afraid to ask, "the future of mankind… what'd you see?"

The woman frowned slightly. "I'm not sure," she admitted quietly. "Something terrible, something I hope we never have to witness. The world falling into the void. The end of time. Caius charges endlessly at the temple in Valhalla while Etro holds chaos back from entering our world, and he seeks only a blind desire to kill her."

"And if that happens…?" Noel coaxed.

"Chaos would gush into our world and cease the flow of time, collapsing the past, present, and future. The world would become true entropy – no life, no death, no time."

"Like Valhalla." Serah chewed her lip. "_That's_ what he's after, isn't it? If he can erase time–"

"Yeul would be saved." Noel seemed in awe of this, if briefly. "And not just one. _All_ of them. The ripple effects would travel up and down the timeline and free every one of them from their curse. They'd be _safe_ and never have to die or be reborn or see the future ever again!"

"Exactly," Lightning said. "The ripple effects would keep them alive."

Another pause. Noel seemed to be thinking.

"How would he do it?" Serah asked.

Lightning pursed her lips for a moment. "The gate must open very wide if enough people die at once, and when that happens, chaos would gush out into the world. For example, if Cocoon should fall," she added, looking between the two. Apparently making sure they were both listening, she frowned at Noel, causing Serah to look, too. The boy stared blankly into the distance. Lightning kept talking. "Caius must be stopped on both fronts – here, and where I come from. In 500 AF, he'll make his final move, and at the same time, he will come after Etro in Valhalla. I must go back to stand in his way. Can you try and prevent Cocoon from falling?"

"We can," Serah answered, glancing at Noel again. No change.

"I know I can't count on you. Mog will show the way."

Serah watched the little creature go flying off to reveal a gate at the end of the rickety platform, then looked back at Noel and nudged him. "Hey. You alive?"

"Hmm?" He blinked at her. "I'm… thinking. But I got it."

Serah said, hesitantly, "What?"

"I'm just– I'm wonderin'." Silence. The three travelers looked between one another. Noel squirmed, sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thinking. You know how Yeul is constantly reborn? I'm just wondering– you know, just a thought, but… is it involuntary?"

Serah and Lightning exchanged glances; the latter looked surprised by this thought. "What do you mean?" she said.

"Haven't you looked through time at all to the distant past?"

Pause. "Not all that often."

"Well, you knew Caius had been a l'Cie before. Did you see anything to indicate whether Yeul _chose_ come back, again and again, or whether it was really a curse and she just can't help it? I don't know," he muttered, frowning and shaking his head slightly. "Can't tell what to believe."

"But even if she did," Serah put it, "that wouldn't matter. Things would still go the way they–"

"No. Wait." Lightning stepped down onto the beach again and looked at Noel. "I see what you're saying. If Yeul chooses to come back…"

"Then it's kind of her fault this happened," Noel finished, "so if you can somehow tell her to stop coming back, maybe back when this all started – tell her what's gonna happen, and how everything'll fall apart… maybe even get her to tell Caius if he doesn't already know, which I suspect he doesn't–"

"The timeline only goes back so far, Noel," she sighed, "and at this point I'm not sure what difference it'd make."

"But it's worth trying, right?"

Her blue eyes narrowed momentarily before she nodded. "Yes. I suppose anything is at this point."

Serah nodded as well. "Worst comes to worst, we'll help out anyway we can."

There was a severe, determined look in Lightning's eyes, one Serah had seen a few times before. The lines of her body were taut with her shoulders firmly back. There was no doubt about it: now that Lightning had a goal other than just fighting to save the world, things seemed to be a little clearer to her. The three looked at each other again before Lightning nodded once more.

As she headed past Serah back toward the portal, Serah said, "Lightning?"

The woman paused and gave an acknowledging hum.

"We'll be together again, right? Once all this is over and everything's back in one piece again?"

She heard, rather than saw, the slight smile on Lightning's face. "One thing at a time, Serah," she said, and moved off again. "One thing at a time."

Serah stared at the ground between her feet as she heard her sister's footsteps vanish at her back.

* * *

Caius slipped on the stone underfoot and again wondered why he was clawing his way up the side of the temple instead of just flying up. True, he might need the exercise after sulking around the northern half of Valhalla most of the week, but that wasn't much of an excuse. Then again, he was less likely to get caught until it was almost too late if he climbed, especially on the side closest to downtown. What handholds he found were pretty secure even given their age; he could climb fairly swiftly as long as he didn't look down. Immortal or not, hitting the ground spine-first and shattering it wasn't a pleasant experience.

Two-thirds of the way up, he paused, held his breath, and listened. Other than the muted roar of the ocean, he didn't hear anything.

Smirking to himself, he continued up.

Darkness had settled over Valhalla by the time he hauled himself over the rail and onto the balcony. One hand on the rail, he listened again. Except for a vine rustling in the breeze beside him, he didn't hear anything at all, not even his adversary pacing back and forth on patrol. That seemed rather odd, but he didn't question it. He moved away from the balcony, slinking along the wall and sticking to the shadows of the throne room. The top half of the temple had been blasted away by his attack on it earlier, exposing the throne to the elements. Most of the pillars had been snapped in half as well. He was completely exposed even with his back to a pillar in the corner.

Still no sign of Lightning; he couldn't believe his good fortune.

The nagging question of _where is she_ lingered in the back of his mind, though, so he waited a second longer.

Still nothing; he moved forward.

"I was wondering how long you'd hold out, Ballad."

Hesitating, he lifted an eyebrow. So much for his good fortune. "Lightning," he said by way of greeting.

He heard the sound of her armor clicking together, metal ringing on metal, before he saw her come out from behind a pillar on the far side of the throne room. In her right hand she bore her long silver gunblade, held angled down in a resting position, but he knew how fast she could reverse that. With her head up, walking with graceful steps even in the cumbersome armor, he could almost say she was elegant.

One hand grasped the handle of his sword. "I was so close," he said flatly. "Closer than I have ever been."

"Sorry to disappoint you," she muttered.

The massive sword came off his back to point at her. "Then we should end this."

Her sword mimicked his. "You say that a lot. Is fighting the only way you know to end a war?"

"In this case… yes."

There was something in her clear blue eyes that had never been there before. It made him curious. "Just let me ask you one thing," she said, and looked him in the eye. "Why is it that you set out on this journey and sought to bring about the end of the world?"

Bitterness enveloped him in a red haze. "Because Yeul always dies far too young."

"Is that it?" she said. "There's no desire of yours to be free of your own curse?"

"Of course there is!"

"And Yeul, returning again and again…" Lightning stepped forward. "What if it's a choice?"

This promptly sent him off the deep end. How could anyone even _suggest_ that? How could she _say_ such a thing? "A _choice_? A _choice_! Lightning, you ignorant fool, who would _choose_ to die young only to return and suffer the same painful fate over and over? It never ends! So _I will end it for her_!"

Leaping straight at Lightning, he seemed to catch her off guard for the briefest of seconds, which was all the time he needed. Together, in a tangle of arms and legs, they went flying back toward the far balcony, skidding on the stone when they landed. He twisted, trying to stand, but he felt her latch onto his throat and begin to squeeze, choking him. Coughing, he and returned the favor, only to feel her slash down his side, leaving a scar on his armor. A second later, she punched him in the stomach – hard enough that the armor couldn't swallow the whole impact of it – and as he struggled to breathe, she rolled away and stood.

Then she pounced and knocked them both off the balcony.

They hit a lower building together, him landing shoulder-first and taking the brunt of the impact, teeth cracking together and giving him a headache; she rolled with him and used the momentum to launch herself up onto her feet a smart distance away. He flipped over to stand as well, not wasting a second before sending out a burst of energy that made her stumble backward.

He pressed the offensive, forcing her back. She finally gained some footing and reacted by turning her sword to catch his between the main blade and the bayonet above it, locking them together. With a flick of the wrist, she yanked him to a stop. He grunted; she glared at him. This went on for a second or two before his vision suddenly went white and he landed on his back on the street.

Confused, he blinked, trying to clear his vision, seeing her falling toward him. Before he could bring his sword up to try and catch her on it, she landed beside him.

In a sight panic, he rolled aside and scrambled to his feet. They were in an alleyway, a rather tight space to keep going in such a war; he looked all around while keeping an eye on her at the same time, searching for some way out of this mess. Lightning advanced on him; he backed up, still looking for a way out. Then, suddenly, he reversed that tactic and leapt straight at her again; she reacted by imitating him. _Crack_ went galvanized armor on coated metal, an impact that made his head spin – not an unfamiliar feeling. Before he could do anything else, she ducked his blind swing and kicked him, _hard_, in the face. He went tumbling out of the alleyway.

Once more, she was on him, but this time he forewent the defensive and struggled away from her. Quickly scaling a building with strangely gnarled architecture, he scrambled across the rooftop, aware she was practically breathing down his neck, leapt to a neighboring one, and, in midair, twisted to fire a nice blast of fiery energy that engulfed her and sent her tumbling to the rooftop in a daze.

As she somehow managed to stand, he threw out a beam of purple light that knocked her over. A second later, with shaky steps and terrible balance, she managed to stand. Caius hid his frustration.

"Will you never give up?"

Her blue eyes narrowed. "You'll never see me quit."

"Even if time ceases to exist and all of time collapses? Even if all potential and possibilities collapse?" He scoffed at her, taking a step toward her with his sword up. "Pointless."

"You'll have to _kill_ _me_ first!"

Caius smirked dryly at her and snapped a hand forward. A graviton burst sent her flying back into an open plaza one level above the beach; he hurried after her, knowing he had to keep pushing or else he would lose what advantage he had at the moment. As long as Lightning still breathed, he wouldn't be able to finish the job; he could only hope one of his past selves would instead.

As he landed hard on the stone and stood, she already was, shield up in a guard position, sword angled to block any strike he might try.

"And you think this will make Yeul happy?" she demanded.

Caius faltered a second. "At least you know I'm not doing this because I _can_."

She dodged a beam of energy that raced along the ground by leaping aside. When he sent a second beam after her, she dodged that one too and deflected a follow-up pearl of light. "You want to save her, but in doing so you want to wreck the lives of everyone else?"

"Imagine watching your dear sister die over and over for centuries, unable to control it, helpless to _stop_ it!" he shouted, and ran at her. They came together in a very loud _crack_ of sword and sword that made his head hurt, but he managed to unhook his from hers and take a swing.

"Haven't you ever stopped to think that maybe, just _maybe_, she chooses to keep coming back? That she chooses to keep suffering?"

"_No_!" He turned his fury into a flurry of strikes that forced her back, finally catching her blade on his and using his weight to push her back even further. "How can you even _say_ that? She–"

"Because she _told_ me!" Lightning dug in, slid to a stop, and pushed back. The two of them pushed against each other with both physical strength and sheer mass, although Caius, the heavier of the two, had the slightest upper hand in that respect. "You know I spoke to her? Personally! I reached back through time and finally wrenched the truth out of her!"

"_What truth_?" he shouted. "_What_ didn't she tell me?"

"She wanted to tell you, but she couldn't!" Lightning dug in a little more, finally able to use leverage to force them to a momentary stalemate. "By the time she thought it might be a good idea to mention that she'd _chosen_ to come back time and again, _she couldn't do it_!"

He laughed bitterly. As if he could ever believe it! "And why would she keep coming back, hmm?"

"Because you were an immortal and she was the only one who could! She came back to be with _you_! To keep seeing _you_! So _you_ wouldn't be lonely!"

Lonely? Caius couldn't think of a time when that _hadn't_ been so. Just the knowledge that his time with each of the girls would be hideously short was enough to keep it that way. No matter how many years he spent watching her grow from an infant to a teen that would suddenly, without warning, die in his arms, it never changed a thing. He had _always_ been lonely. That was his curse.

"She wanted to keep you sane, keep your feet on the ground and your loneliness at bay. But it backfired." Lightning was still talking, staring at him through crossed blades. "Oh, it _backfired_! Instead of enjoying what time you had together, it got _worse_!"

Panting under the strain, he gritted his teeth before speaking. "And what of it?" he demanded. "So Yeul chooses to come back. So what? It makes no difference! Too much has been _lost_!" Giving a hard shove, he made her stumble back, then kicked her sword into the air before striking her across the chest with the flat of his. She coughed and fell to the side, landing on one knee. "I will save her!"

Lightning coughed, one hand held against her belly. "You're so hardheaded," she muttered. "She came back over and over to be with you, wanting to come back, but when I asked her why she did it even now, once she knew what was to come, she said she just couldn't stop anymore because you'd just go on and finish your plan anyway, since all those girls in the past had died." As she spoke, she climbed to her feet and dodged a swing from his blade, which made him bristle. "Don't you see? It's all a _lie_, Caius!"

"I won't stop!" he snapped.

"Fine!" Lightning brandished her sword, and they clashed once more, swords flashing in the strange bluish ambient light of this otherworld. "Fine, Ballad! Then think about this. What about making it so she doesn't _have_ to come and keep you company? What about a _companion_?"

This was the most absurd thing she'd ever said to him. Had she spoken without thinking, or did she honestly believe he'd never considered it? "I'd outlive _anyone_!"

Lightning looked exasperated. "What about the Heart of Chaos?"

"_What of it_?"

The sound of crashing blades filled the gaps between sentences as they continued their dance into the deepening night. "You can control it! It belongs to you! I know you can't hand it off completely without killing yourself, but maybe you can _split_ it! Give half to someone else!"

He sneered at her. "_What_?"

"Let her go! Pick someone else, someone who will stay through thick and thin! Fine _someone_! Let her move on and die in _peace_!"

This was something he _had_ considered and discovered to be possible, but it was still absurd. "And give it to who, warrior?" he demanded. A graviton burst sent her skidding back across the plaza. He charged at her; she narrowly blocked his strikes. "_No one_ will take it willingly!" _Crack_ – he missed and hit the stone; Lightning pushed off it and landed on her feet. Caius came after her with each strike punctuating his words. "_No one_ will stay with me! I will _never_ have anyone because _who would do it_? Who would willingly bear my curse at my side? _Who_ would take pity on a monster and stay with me? _No one_! Do you hear me?" Practically screaming now, flooded with adrenaline, he swung the blade and sent out a shot of purple energy tinged with pink. She blocked it with her sword, but still she backpedaled and tried to stay upright. As she fell to knees, barely keeping her legs beneath her, he swung down and brought the blade crashing against her sword. "_No one ever would_!"

Lightning shouted the most terrifying and unbelievable words he had ever heard out into Valhalla's alien dusk.

"_I'll stay with you_!"

And for the first time since they had started this war, everything fell deathly silent.


	2. Promise

_**2 Promise**_

Lightning stared up through the crossed blades, one a cruel and battered blade as big as its owner, one slender and silver with elegant engraving, at the face of her attacker. Caius's violet eyes were wide, fierce with anger and grief and bitterness… but most of all, shock. His chest heaved as he panted, pulse twitching on his neck where she could barely see it in the darkness, and soon she made out a faint clattering sound. It took her a moment to realize that his hands were shaking and the blade quaking against hers. Metal and metal rang quietly above her head; she swallowed against the lump in her throat.

He wasn't the only one in shock.

As if to underline that fact, she saw his lips form an utterly confused expression, one resembling a smile but with the sort of feeling that made her realize he was at a loss for words. This quickly fixed itself, though, when he narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

Lightning caught her breath and swallowed again. "I'll stay with you," she repeated in a calmer, softer tone.

Caius didn't look convinced. "As if."

"I'm serious."

The shadows falling across his face, formed by his thick hair, made it difficult to read the nuances of his features, but she suspected she didn't need to. No, she recognized the lines of his body as they went stiff, muscles tightening through the more flexible sections of his armor. Then she felt him begin to press down; fear shot through her heart as she saw the pinkish light of chaos flare in his eyes.

"You're lying," he said, dangerously.

Instead of pushing back, she let her arms go slack, but directed the blade to the left, where it slid off and _clanked_ on the stone. "No. I'm not." Slowly, she lowered her sword, still in shock. How could she have made such an offer to him? Was she that desperate to save the world that she was willing to sacrifice her freedom, her _mortality_, to keep it safe? "I'm not, Caius. I'm completely serious."

His breathing quickened. It was a sign she knew from her military days, one of shock. "I doubt it."

"I've never _been_ more serious."

He laughed, bitterly, though his eyes were not amused, but puzzled and wary. "You would give up your chance of a normal life, cut off from everyone, stay in Valhalla, with _me_, just to save the world?" But his quivering voice completely undermined his attempts at mocking her.

Lightning stood then, very slowly, careful to make non-threatening movements, looking him in the eye. At the same time, she dispelled her sword and shield, leaving herself defenseless.

He raised the sword, tip hovering inches from her throat, but she gazed back at him, not letting him know that her heart was pounding in her chest and fear wracked her body. Honestly, she was _terrified_, knowing that if he so chose he could sever her head from her shoulders and be done with it. She had chosen to do nothing to defend herself this time, praying the message would get across.

"Caius Ballad," she murmured, "if you so let me, if it will stop you, let Yeul rest in peace, save the world… I'll stay with you forever."

The sword trembled before her, but his gaze was as steady and stern as ever. "Companion to the man you hate."

"I don't hate you. I never did."

Lips parting, he took a deep breath. "Why?"

Lightning started to question him until she realized he was talking about her offer. It was something she couldn't truly answer. Taking up the mantle as Valhalla's guardian to the overseer of time and chaos, Etro, had been her way of trying to find penance for her perceived "sins". In protecting the lives of all those up and down the timeline, she tried to become something so great and broad and wonderful that she could save everyone, but most importantly her sister. Serah, dear Serah, who had always been her charge, her only reason to live, still needed her. She still needed to protect her sister. This was a good way to do so.

And that was truly it. Not only could she, hopefully, prevent the world's end, but prevent her sister from seeing any more visions.

Serah was the only person she had ever loved, and the only one she would _ever_ love.

"Because it's what should be done," she said. Her voice grew quiet as she continued. "Caius, you destroy time, and then what? Spend eternity alone with Yeul? You know that isn't what she would want. Put aside your anger and your grief for just a moment. And if you don't believe me–" She took a deep breath. "Go and ask her yourself. I'm telling the truth."

He seemed to consider this, if the flare of denial going out of his eyes were any indication. Lighting thought about what this would mean if he accepted her offer. Would it mean eternal servitude as a slave to him? Or would it lead to some sort of grudging respect? Would they eventually get on neutral terms? She knew they could never be much else – Caius, too angry, too hardheaded, too self-absorbed, and her, too strong, too independent, too proud. It would mean a different sort of loneliness for both of them.

"As if you would," he said at last.

She raised both hands, slowly, and spread them, palms up. "Please, at least consider my offer. Talk to Yeul. See what she has to say to you. Promise me you'll at least think about it."

He looked her in the eye. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"You agree to be my companion. What else is there?"

In all honesty, she hadn't considered that, not all the way through. "As long as I am with you," she said after a bit of thought, "you must promise to leave the timeline alone and let Yeul rest in peace. You must return everything to the way it was and resolve the final paradox."

He half-smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "I _am_ the final paradox, Lightning," he said. "As long as I live, the timeline can never be truly restored."

This made sense to her – Etro had warped the timeline by introducing Caius's immortality, a freak incident, to the mix and permanently disrupted it. No, as long as Caius lived, so too would the corrupt timeline, but at the same time everything would go back to being stable. The world might even live for a million more years. As long as Serah got to live a full life, it was enough for her.

"If Serah gets to live, then I don't care what happens to me," she murmured.

At last, Caius's massive sword lowered.

Lightning exhaled, not realizing she'd been holding her breath all that time. "So you agree?"

"I agree to consider your offer," he said, "nothing more. When I come to a decision, _after_ I have spoken with Yeul, I will return to tell you of my choice. This may take some time. If I do not return as quickly as you would like, wait a short while longer. I promise, I will return."

Lightning clasped her hand in a fist and held it against the golden bird at her breast. "I'll hold you to your word."

He replaced the sword on his back. "Indeed."

As she watched, half in disbelief, half in elation, Caius turned and walked off into the city – in the _opposite_ direction from the temple, along the beach, not even glancing back at her. Still struggling with the fact something amazing had just happened, she returned to the temple. After some pacing, she decided to go stand at the balcony, watching and waiting.

Over and over, she kept thinking about how stupid she was being.

Caius was her enemy. Once upon a time, he hadn't been, instead fighting for the protection of his people and his home. Now he was something else. She had just agreed to become his companion. What was to prevent him from breaking his promise if he decided to accept her offer? What was to prevent him from manipulating her or hurting her or pushing her away? With Yeul, he was driven to the brink of despair, but still human. Without her, what kind of monster would he turn out to be?

And with the Heart of Chaos, even if none of that came to fruition, she would outlive _everyone_ she knew.

Lightning buried her face in both hands, trying not to think too deeply into this, but aware that she had made an offer that would tear her away from a normal life forever.

* * *

Caius moved slowly, trying to digest all this new information.

Some hours had passed, if they could be called such, in this realm both dislodged from time and sunk to its neck in it, the stars out overhead in a clear velveteen sky. He was nearly to the temple, walking on the promenade following the beach for some distance, and at its base, he stopped and looked up. Without the luminescent green spirals, the thing looked hardly any different from any other building in the city.

He brought a hand to his chest and hesitated.

Then, without another moment's hesitation, he headed to the destroyed throne room.

In the early morning of shifting gloom beneath a star-filled sky, he quietly approached his longtime adversary, wary, but resigned to his fate. She had her back to him, leaning on the balcony to look out over the ocean and the floating islands above it. At one of the pillars, still some distance away, he stopped, gazing at her. He wondered how she would react to the news – like he did, or worse, or not at all?

"Lightning."

Abruptly, she faced him, then relaxed. "Caius. Got an answer?"

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled. "I spoke to her in person," he said. "She told– she corroborated everything you said. _Everything_." He opened his eyes again and looked at the floor. Could she understand what this meant for him? Could she truly believe and understand what such a thing would mean for his future, for his life, for everything? "You were right," he whispered.

She tilted her head as he looked back up at her. "What?"

Thinking she hadn't heard him, he walked closer, slow enough that he wouldn't frighten or agitate her. "You were right, Lightning," he murmured. "When I told her of your offer, she was… _elated_. At first, she did not understand, not fully, but once she did…" Again he looked at the floor. After hearing her words, he just felt defeated, as though everything he had ever known was a lie. He couldn't even be angry. He was just _defeated_. "It made her happy to know I would not go through with my plan."

Lightning's expression shifted to one of surprise. "You…" She hesitated. "Not go through with your– you mean, you _agree_ to take up my offer? You chose for yourself?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She blinked. "I'm glad."

He looked her in the eye. "There's nothing for me now. She told me she would take care of everything I cannot. All she asked in return was that you and I do not remain here in Valhalla, but go back to your home, together."

Lightning looked surprised – and, possibly, hesitant. "You mean New Bodhum."

"I mean."

Pursing her lips, she looked unhappy. "I'm not sure how everyone will react, but… agreed."

He took a breath. "I promise to keep my hands off the timeline."

She nodded. "And I promise to keep you company."

Moving closer, he did not stop until he was only an arm's length away. Her body tensed at the proximity; he tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. "I do not do this lightly," he told her firmly. "Understand that I do this because it seems to be for the best. I do not consider you an acquaintance or a friend. You are not neutral in my eyes. I will not forget all the Yeuls who will never see adulthood even in spite of this. A hundred years from now, you and I may be on friendlier terms, but we will never be anything more, and in essence you and I will be the loneliest people in the world – unable to be with anyone, permanently linked to one another."

She stepped toward him, away from the rail. "I understand."

"You will never have a normal life, Lightning. You will outlive everyone you know, and if you fall in love, you can never be with him. Your life as you knew it is gone forever. There will be no more war, but there will be no more hope, either. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"I may not be lonely as I was, but there will be a different kind of loneliness for _us_ – forever cut off from love or companionship or kinship. We are not normal. Do you accept that?"

"Yes."

Caius lifted an eyebrow at her determination. There was no hesitation at all. "You must be receptive – I cannot force the Heart on you. Clear your mind."

Lightning nodded. "I'm ready."

He looked carefully at her. "I know you are," he said.

Lightning exhaled, closing her eyes, and relaxed her entire body. Caius lifted a hand to his breast, resting it over the Heart of Chaos inside him, and touched the energy it contained. It was the heart of Etro, but also a temporal link that froze its bearer in time, bleeding into him a strange energy from another time and place. Therefore, it was difficult to get it to cooperate, but soon he managed to separate half its energy from him, prying it out of his body slowly and carefully. It was quite painful; he felt himself wincing, cringing, biting back an exclamation of pain as he held it out to Lightning. The sooner this was finished, the better.

A moment later, that half of the Heart found its new home on the opposite side of her chest from his – the right side – and glowed briefly with pinkish-red light before fading. Lightning took a deep breath; Caius stood for a moment as a flood of alien emotions and feelings washed over him.

They didn't belong to _him_. They belonged to _her_.

He whispered her name.

When her eyes opened, he was greeted with a faint flare of chaos in them before dying back to her usual blue as she looked into his eyes. The flood dissolved into a trickle, sitting at the back of his mind. The two gazed at one another, not needing to speak as the fringes of each other's emotions touch their minds. Caius, slightly unnerved by this new development, shifted his weight. He felt confusion, satisfaction, and surprise, none of which belonged to him.

"Then, it's done?" she said.

He nodded. "It's done."

Lightning brought a hand to her breast, where the Heart glowed briefly even through the armor. "I feel weird," she admitted, "like I was only half a person before, and only now am I whole."

Caius felt the same sensation. "It is mutual."

"And I also feel _you_," she added, a hint of disgust in her tone – a hint he shared even before they had undergone this little exchange. "I'm not sure I like– no, I _don't_ like it, this invasion of myself. For someone who's spent all her life content to be alone… I don't like this."

"We all make sacrifices," he told her, sharper than he'd intended.

Her eyes turned as cold as ice and fixed on his. "We do, but some more than others," she said. "So, now that this is done, how do I know you'll keep your promise to me? That you won't take my sliver of trust and crush it?" The usual brusque tone she used with him returned as she spoke, but when she finished, she sighed, exhaling it away, her shoulders drooping and gaze falling to the stone. "No. No, it's… it's no use. If we're going to be stuck together as you promised, we might as well… stop fighting."

Caius found this difficult to wrap his head around, to be honest. "All you and I have ever done is fight."

"Together, but not apart."

He thought this over a moment. What about his life before Valhalla? What about enormous plains of grass beneath an unending blue sky and thunderclouds moving in from the horizon? What about the mournful howl of a great beast on the hunt or the sweep of reptilian wings overhead? Since living in the two hundred after Cocoon's final fall and then living here in the endless gloom of Valhalla, he had missed Gran Pulse's majestic beauty. He had yet to visit the tribe in the snowcapped northern mountains or walk along the shore of the largest ocean. Too long he had tied himself down to his duty and neglected his life.

With Lightning, an independent woman without anything beyond her sister to anchor her and no need to be with him all the time, this could be a fresh start for both of them.

"You suggest somehow going back to our old lives, before all of this?" he asked, just to be clear.

She nodded. "Yes. I never wanted to fight to begin with."

"Neither did I."

She sighed and shook her head. "But all you've ever _done_ is fight in some way, shape, or form. The fight against Miyoki to secure your right to Guardianship. The war to save Paddra from ruin that earned you the Heart. The War of Transgression. The–"

Listening to her ramble a bit, he finally cut her off with a slight, if dry, chuckle. "Again, I do none of this lightly, but I accept your terms. They… seem reasonable enough," he added hesitantly. "I don't like it–" Pause. No, he really _didn't_ like it – giving up his endless war just because he was promised a little peace. What about the girls who would die and stay dead? What about the timeline? But the bigger question was _why_ he had chosen to do as he was asked at all. Perhaps it was some sick fascination with the future's endless possibilities. Perhaps it was the thrill of not knowing the future at all, ever, and finding entrenched in it an eternity of surprises. Perhaps it was the chance to see his homeland again, free from the burden of Guardianship. Or maybe it was something else. Whatever the case, his acceptance surprised even himself.

"Before we do anything, I need to tell Noel and Serah they can break off their mission," she said, "so you need to tell your past self, too."

"If I end the paradoxes, he will simply disappear."

She seemed to think this over. "Alright. Then I will just tell them to stop what they're doing." She paused and looked over the desolate skyline. "Will Noel… _also_ disappear?"

"I'm not sure."

Lightning sighed softly and touched the railing with one hand. "I think he already accepts that possibility."

"Indeed."

Silence again fell between them. The two looked at each other with the same even stares they had always used, and Caius saw hostility in her eyes. This did not sit well with her, he could tell, perhaps less than it did with him, and he couldn't blame her. As they would have the possibility of hundreds, even thousands, of years ahead of them, would she ever find it in her heart to forgive him?

"There's just one thing." Her tone was sharp as usual, but couldn't hide the curiosity in it. "How did she manage to convince you to go through with this?"

He placed both hands on his hips.

"Caius, I'm serious. You've been plotting this for centuries. Millennia, almost. Tell me, what could've been so incredible that you dropped _everything_ and accepted my offer, huh?" When he still didn't answer, she took a deep breath and exhaled quietly. "Caius, please."

He looked sideways at the floor.

"Tell me." Pause. "Please." Her voice grew softer with every word.

"Reluctant" wasn't quite the right word. It was almost like he felt his exchange with Yeul had been strictly between her and him alone, that anyone else was an outsider, a trespasser, on their privacy. Yet if they were going to spend so much time together, if all went well, then she deserved to know what had brought about his change of heart, but he wasn't sure she would understand. It seemed too personal, and the words had been an arrow in his heart that he'd hoped he'd never have to deal with. Their exchange had been a reality check, and he feared describing the events would be too difficult for him.

"I–" He frowned, then closed his eyes to think."After you and I… after we had our… 'exchange', I left this place for the Void Beyond to speak with a past version of her. It is not the first time," he explained, looking at her for a moment as he spoke. "She was not surprised to see me."

Lightning nodded, once, curtly.

Caius took a breath. "I wasted no time, and asked whether all you had said was true. She hesitated before speaking, but said that yes, it was true. I was… in shock." His words grew quieter, and he turned his back to her, staring across the ruins of the throne room. In the gloom, the crystal throne shimmered with an ethereal light it generated by itself. "When I could gather myself, I– I told her about your proposal, your promise to be with me forever. She…" Trailing off, he looked at the floor again.

Behind him, Lightning shifted her weight. "She… what?"

Caius gave a soft, incredulous laugh, so slight it was almost a whisper even to his ears, and spoke slowly. "She told me… that her _prayers_ had been answered."

He could practically taste Lightning's surprise and sudden interest.

"You should have seen it, warrior," he said, quietly, almost breathing the words. "You should have seen her– the _joy_ in her eyes, her smile, her… _everything_. I have never seen her so… _happy_. Joyful. I have known her for many, many years, and… I've _never_ seen her like that. How could I deny her then? Now that I had seen the truth, seen my folly, my ignorance… how could I take it away?"

And that was truly it: a full-force punch in the gut that had sent him flying off his precious notion of "saving" the two of them in willful, and eventually involuntary, ignorance.

"Believing her to be caught in a curse she couldn't break, exhausted of watching her die again and again, tired of being caught in a web of loneliness, I let myself go," he admitted quietly. "She implied this, and I accepted it in my heart. I wasn't… I wasn't strong enough."

"To do what?"

"To let her go."

Again Lightning shifted her weight. "If I'd have seen Serah die over and over in an endless cycle, I think I may have done the same thing."

"No," he said, and faced her, "you would not have. You are in control of yourself and your emotions, logical and straightforward. I, on the other hand, am not. I have never been stoic, or quietly accepting of things as 'the way it is', or in control. I am… an emotional man."

Lightning laughed quietly. "Emotional? You're passionate and rowdy. Do you know how much you _shout_, or how _loud_?"

Despite the circumstances, his lips curved up in a faint half-smile.

The amusement quickly faded from her eyes. "So you accept what you did was wrong?"

Caius felt a reflexive bristle coming on, but struggled to calm it immediately. "Lightning, I am still unsettled – there will still be many girls who have died and will remain so, lives that can never be lived. I was supposed to keep her safe – I was supposed to be her safe haven, her protection – and still her life slipped through my fingers, like… like _sand_," he growled, and looked down at his hands as they became fists. "I'm not entirely sure that I will ever get over it, even with you as company. You and I will always be lonely in some way."

"You think all we'll be are enemies?"

"No, but I do not see us becoming anything more than acquaintances."

It seemed to take some effort for her to say her next words. "You never know," she said quietly. "Stranger things have happened. Someday, we might call each other 'friend'."

Caius sincerely doubted this, but nodded all the same to humor her. "Perhaps."

"Then… is there anything more to say, or do?"

"No."

"Then I will go speak to my sister and Noel," she said. "You clear out the last of the paradoxes as best as you can. I will meet you on the shore and we will go back together."

He said nothing.

"Caius, I need you to do this."

Finally, he nodded. "As you wish. I will wait for you."

Looking him in the eye, she nodded, then turned away, feathers rustling faintly behind her. One of them fell from the lower section of the half-skirt, drifting along the floor before settling at his feet. He gazed down at it. As soon as she left his sight, he knelt and picked up the feather. It was nearly half the length of his forearm, pure white in color except where it had picked up bits of dust from their war. He carefully flicked most of it out, but remained kneeling on the floor, looking it over in silence.

* * *

_Serah_.

Having just stepped onto the final platform leading to the front of the Academy headquarters, Serah had to find her footing far from the edge before stopping and looking around. "Did you hear that?"

Noel looked around, too. "Yeah. Sounds like–"

"Lightning?"

And it was, at the other end of the platform, walking up the steps to the uppermost level. The two time travelers held their ground. Now that they were close to their goal, Serah suspected this was just an illusion, like from her dream. It would be the perfect time to try and stop them with her sister's soothing visage.

Lightning stood, still in her armor, a few feet away, the breeze ruffling the feathers around her leg. "Serah," she said by way of greeting, "I know it's a bit soon."

Before she could say anything, Noel stepped between them – ever the protective one. "Who are you?"

Lightning looked at him. "The same one you met in New Bodhum."

"You went back to Valhalla."

"Chaos has bled through here in expectation of what may still occur." As she spoke, she moved closer, but Noel held his ground. "Because of that, I can move freely back and forth as the fabric of spacetime falls apart. This is a future destined for oblivion. You cannot stay."

Noel was unconvinced. "So you come here, conveniently right before we're about to save the world, to tell us to stop trying to save it? Right."

"The paradoxes are being stripped away. You can't stay, or you'll be erased with them."

Serah opened her mouth, but Noel spoke first. "We haven't saved–"

"Caius and I have come to an agreement." As she spoke, her tone became tinged with bitterness. "In return, he will end what paradoxes he can, allowing us to once more change the future and avert this tragedy. Go home, Serah, and you, Noel, and I will be back with you soon."

The travelers exchanged confused glances; Serah slipped past Noel. "I don't understand. What agreement?"

Lightning smiled briefly. "I promise, I'll tell you once we're all home."

"Sorry if I don't really believe you," Noel said.

"No, it's fine that you don't. In fact, I'd be very worried if you didn't."

Now Noel looked even more confused. "Wait, it's really you? The timeline will really be okay?"

Lightning hesitated. "No," she said at last. "It's too corrupted, and the final paradox still lives in the past, present, and future. As long as Caius lives, the timeline can't be restored, but he cannot be killed or else the end of the world will be upon us. This is the next best thing."

More confused glances. "Uh–"

"Noel," Lightning said, and walked up to him, "it's alright."

Serah clasped Lightning's hand in both of her own. "Is it really alright? Can we really all go home?"

"I'm not sure if Noel will disappear or–"

"If I do," he said, "I do."

Lightning looked at him and used her free hand to grasp his shoulder. "Good man."

"So what do we do?" Serah asked.

"Go home to New Bodhum," Lightning said. "I will find Snow and try to figure out how to free him from the Coliseum. Meanwhile, Noel, you decide whether you want to go to the future or stay with us. The future should have everyone alive in it, but it will be a one-way trip. Once you have made your decisions, go home, and I will see you there. I promise. And Noel," she added, "if you choose to go home, there is a portal waiting for you at the other end of this platform." She gestured; Noel and Serah looked to see it.

Serah let go. "Alright. Be careful."

Her sister turned away, walking back down the steps. Serah saw her vanish in a wink of golden light at the bottom.

"I'll go home," Noel said, drawing her gaze to him. "If there're people, I want to see them."

She smiled. "I'll go home, too."

"I wonder what that… 'agreement' is."

At this, her expression darkened. What, indeed – how could Caius, planning to destroy time and space, have come to _any_ agreement that would satisfy him, and particularly with her sister? Lightning hadn't seemed too happy about the prospect, either – was it really that bad?

"I'm not sure I want to find out," she admitted, "but at least Lightning and Snow will be home. That's good."

Noel hesitated. "I'll never see you again."

Serah looked at him. "It's been… interesting, I guess, but sometimes really fun being with you." Smiling earnestly at him, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "More than that… it's been great. Sometimes awful – this journey, I mean, it wasn't _always_ great – but amazing all the same." She hesitated, then pulled Noel into a hug, one that surprised him if his soft squeak was any indication. He returned it, though, and it lasted just long enough. "Thanks," she said, and meant it with all her heart.

"Yeah, anytime."

They moved apart; Serah shared one last smile with him, but this time it was a little strained. Noel had been her friend for long enough that this wasn't as straightforward as she'd hoped it would be. After fidgeting a moment, she squeezed his shoulders, then dropped her hands away.

"Well, get going, you," she said.

He hesitated. "Um…"

"What?"

"We, uh… you know we–" She heard him swallow, brow knitting together. "We… won't ever–"

She had been hoping to avoid that altogether. Now, she had to face it head-on: though she had known Noel for such a relatively short time, he had become her friend, her _good_ friend, someone to whom she could entrust all her fears, doubts, joys, sorrows…

Sometimes, it felt like Snow was right there with her, all the time.

"Hey," she said, "chin up. And _lighten_ up. First things first, okay? Go home to the world you always wanted. To your people."

Pause. "What if– what if it's–"

"It won't be. Hey, I'm serious, everything'll be just fine, you'll see."

Noel didn't look as sure as she felt. "I'm never gonna see you again, but… I guess you'll be home, with the people you love, and, uh… so will I." He frowned, but it didn't last as he put on a warmer expression. "You take care, okay? Go back with your sister and the others and live a good life. Find out how she managed to accomplish this, too. What agreement, that is. Can't imagine Caius just… giving in."

"I'll find out," she said, "I promise. And I might even leave a message for you in the future so you'll know, too!"

He nodded. "Like, a fragment?"

"Yeah. That is, if… you know, if you're still around. I think you will be, though."

"Me, too."

Pause. "Go on, Noel. Go on home. See you in the future."

He hesitated. "But–"

"I promise, I'll leave something for you. Now, go on. Go see your people."

Noel gazed at her for a moment, then nodded as he backed up, turning away after a few steps. Serah watched him go, first just walking, then jogging, then bursting into a run toward the portal belonging to him. When he touched it, he vanished in a wink of golden light midstride.

Serah simply stood there for a moment. All around her, tesseracts floated through the air, their strange golden shapes turning inside-out, birthing new ones, growing suddenly larger, shrinking into nothingness, bending at strange angles, casting strange shadows across the silent city. In the sky, the sun was setting, its pinkish blaze an odd, warm, peaceful contrast to the bleed of chaos below. Behind the Academy building, the sphere of the New Cocoon could be seen glittering in the sunlight.

Or could it? As she gazed at it, she got the impression that it was… somehow not real. Flickering. Not holding its shape.

She looked toward a portal, one apparently meant for her, at the end of a walkway of gold in front of the Academy building. She walked toward it. The world around her, already silent save for the tesseracts making their strange sounds, seemed to grow even more silent. Still. As if nothing were… _alive_.

She looked over her shoulder.

The tesseracts were gone.

Serah stared at this new development, wondering what it could mean. The world _was_ silent, pieces of the city missing, the sun still setting. It almost seemed as though this would be the last time the sun set, as if it were setting on a world that would never breathe again. It made her feel strange; she turned back to the portal and hurried the rest of the way until she stood before it. Reaching out, she realized that Noel really _was_ gone forever and her sister really _would_ be with her before everything went very, very white.

* * *

_Just so y'all know, this story is going to be quite possibly my longest fic yet. I'm guessing it will easily be twice the length of "Divisions of Time", as well as better written and more interesting. I hope everyone's enjoying so far! Do let me know what you think when you have the time._


	3. Normal Life

_**3 Normal Life**_

The Coliseum was quiet – quieter than it had been in some time. Silence had fallen, and not even the Arbiter spoke to Snow Villiers now. He had just felled a great multi-armed beast from some other world and watched it fade away into the inky darkness of the Void. The time gate leading back to the crossroads taunted him from the stairs above the central area. From here, he could hear the faint trilling noises it made, similar to cicadas and crickets, his only reminder of the home he had left behind.

Every time he tried to approach, a creeping shadow held him back, barring his way. It was chaos, he knew, and he had an affinity to it – or else his time-traveling would never have taken place – but whenever he tried to overpower it, it seemed to call more of itself until his strength was no longer enough. From time to time, a slender shape, that of a young girl, appeared in it and stood before him in stony silence. Speaking to it did no good, as it had no face and always ignored him.

The only relief he got was when the gate lit up and deposited a fresh traveler – a woman in silver armor, who landed with a small, stumbling step.

Snow could hardly believe his eyes. "Lightning," was all he could say.

As she approached, the chaos appeared again, rolling toward her across the stone floor, but she walked right through it, unfazed, and it slowly backed away from her again. She walked purposefully and curtly, as she usually did, but there was a change in her eyes, solemnity and defeat that had never been there before, a sense of duty and even a small bit of frustration that made him stop in his tracks. He _had_ been walking toward her, but now, he wasn't so sure that was the best idea.

"I will hold the chaos back. You can leave."

Snow stared at her. Her voice was emotionless. "It's not that simple," he said. "It never–"

"But I can't do it forever." Now her voice took on a note of irritation. "I can only hold it back so long. I'm not even the one who should be doing it – I don't have the affinity for it that Caius does. _He_ should be doing this instead of me, but I dare not ask. Not right this moment. I have a certain affinity, though, and so, to a point, I _can_ tell it what I want it to do, so long as it… agrees with me. But it _will_ become impatient, eventually."

Snow stared at her. "Why would Caius help you at all? You've been at war with him for a long time now."

"I'll tell you, and everyone, when I get back."

"Get _back_?" Now Snow was completely befuddled. "Wait, you're– you're coming _back_? With _us_? And I'll be able to be with Serah? I–" He gawked at her a moment. "I… don't understand."

"You don't need to understand, Snow, not just yet."

"But you _will_ be back with us? For good?"

Pause. "Yes. For good."

"But…" He didn't like to question her as much as he was, but the nagging suspicion that something wasn't totally right made him ask one last question. "What does Caius have to do with any of this, and why would he allow you to come back home with us?"

"I'll explain, I _promise_." Her expression contorted a little. "You need to go."

The urgency in her voice finally got his attention. With a note of caution, he slipped past her and around the chaos, heading for the gate at the top of the stairs. Once there, he paused, turning to look around at the lifeless land he was leaving behind. Beyond the archways in the walls were nebulas and stars, distant worlds both in this universe and in other universes, as silent as it ever was.

Not sure what he would find on the other side of eternity, he reached for the gate before Lightning could remind him to leave.

* * *

Lightning returned to Valhalla with ease from the Coliseum, as both places existed within a short distance from each other, only barely displaced through time and space. Hairline cracks allowed her to slip through; she returned to the lifeless city to find Caius nowhere in sight – at least, not on the beach. She stood on the sand for a few moments, watching the luminescent waves roll back and forth and the crystals sparkle in the alien twilight. It would be dark soon, and the alien stars in the alien sky would soon come out over a world on the edge of death.

"That one will take you home."

Gasping softly, she whirled on the owner of the familiar voice. "Don't sneak up on me anymore," she muttered. The ease with which he moved about this place was both creepy and intriguing.

Caius extended a hand, and she followed the line of his arm down the beach. The very last time gate stood there on the sand, golden light out of place in the gloom. "I left that one for us," he said. "It will take us to New Bodhum, Three AF. That is the earliest point I can connect us to."

"It's home," she murmured.

He shifted his weight and lowered his arm. "For you, perhaps," he said quietly. There was a strain to his voice that she didn't much like, but wasn't sure why. "I will be a stranger there, you understand. _This_ is where I belong, _here_, in this netherworld. I am a living contradiction, and contradictions scar the timeline."

"Gran Pulse was your home before," she pointed out, "and it can be again."

He gazed at her, expression somewhat severe.

"Are you going back on your word?"

"Of course not."

"That's what I thought." She punctuated this by raising a hand to her breast, where the Heart glowed. Caius looked at her, then down at his half, laying a hand across it. The severity in his eyes lessened; his shoulders, usually straight and strong, lost a bit of their rigidity.

"I will not be welcome, you understand," he said quietly.

"Let me take care of that," she said. "Don't worry about it. I won't let anything happen to you."

He didn't seem all that convinced, but looked at her and nodded all the same. "I have done what I can to resolve all the paradoxes and close the cracks. For sanity's sake I will give you a head start. Try not to be concerned – I will follow you very shortly."

She narrowed her eyes, but nodded. "Alright."

She walked up to the gate and hesitated before it, taking one last look at the world she was leaving behind. Valhalla had never looked as desolate as it did now, even as the strange sun began to rise at the horizon and the luminescent blue waves lapped at the sandy shore. Lightning had no regrets – the more she thought about this place, the more bad memories came to her. No, it was over, it was done, and she and Caius would never fight again. At least, they would never again fight like _this_.

She looked over her shoulder at Caius, who stood like a sentinel carved out of stone down the beach. Save for the breeze in his hair, he didn't move at all. Trying to relax, she looked back at the gate.

"It's finished," she said, and reached for the gate.

Before she knew it, the strange netherworld of Valhalla faded from view; she stepped onto springy turf into air thick with the smell of the ocean and wildflowers. A hot sun beat down on her shoulders; the combination of heat and water in the air immediately made her sweat. As she panted a second and lifted a hand to brush her hair away, she heard something unusual – a faint rustling sound – and paused, looking down at herself.

Her armor was gone. In its place was her old uniform.

Lightning blinked at herself a few more times and tugged on the fabric just to make sure. "Never thought I'd see this old thing again," she muttered.

Then she looked over her shoulder at the gate. Her companion hadn't arrived.

As she started to become concerned, she heard a familiar voice and looked to see Serah half-jogging down the slope toward her. The other woman – who was, a bit strangely to her, the same age as her "older" sister now – looked tired, but overjoyed. She wore a pink tank top and a half-skirt over knee-length pants that hugged her form to reveal the stringy muscle she'd built up in her travels. When she enveloped her sister in a hug, Lightning started at the strength in her once-spindly body.

"Lightning!" Her joy and happy smile immediately washed away the memories of gloomy Valhalla. "You're here! I can't _believe_ it!" Her voice cracked a little; she hugged Lightning tighter, who returned the favor. Momentarily, she wondered what had happened to Mog, but decided to ask once this moment, so much like their embrace after the fall of Cocoon in the true timeline, had run itself out.

"I'm here," she whispered, and released her. "Where's Mog?"

Serah's smile tightened a moment. "I convinced him to go home with the other moogles," she said. "He… didn't like it very much at first, but when I told him it was for the best that everyone was reunited with their families, he seemed to understand. He's happy now, and so is–" She stopped abruptly and looked at the ground.

Lightning frowned. "What's wrong?"

Serah frowned. "Noel's gone," she said. "He's safe in the future, but…" Rubbing her arms, she closed her eyes. "I'll never see him again. That's centuries away, centuries nobody alive will see, and I–" She looked up, then back down. "…I miss him already."

Lightning patted her shoulder. "Knowing he's safe is enough. He's happy as long as the future is alright. And he'll be happier if history shows you and Snow were happy together and the world isn't falling apart anymore." With the same hand, she tipped Serah's chin up to look up again. "Don't worry."

Serah frowned deeper, then sighed, and it went away. "Let's go," she said. "The others don't know you're back yet. Oh," she added, smiling faintly, "about Snow… he didn't tell me much about how he escaped, but he said that you helped. Whatever you did… thank you." She grabbed Lightning's wrist and tugged on it. "Come on. I really want them to see you again!"

"Wait." Again, Lightning looked over her shoulder at the gate. "We're missing someone."

"Uh…" Serah frowned. "Who?"

Lightning held up a hand a second later, feeling a sensation of relief as the gate glowed, the mechanism lining up, and something appeared in its core. She had been worried Caius wouldn't show up, trying to pull one over on her and still get his way, but there he was, materializing out of the Historia Crux to land on the turf beside her. The gate stopped moving, a moment before it winked away. When it did, leaving only green turf, the smell of flowers, and the muted roar of the water, the dark warrior straightened, beads clicking together, hair sifting about his shoulders as the breeze played with it.

Serah's eyes became very, very wide. Before Lightning could say anything, she backed up with a hand reaching for her moogle companion – one that wasn't there. She stopped; her breathing rate increased.

"Serah, wait," Lightning said.

The other woman kept both eyes on Caius. "What–" she began, before cutting herself off.

"It's alright." Fighting her first, greatest instinct – to keep her hands to herself – she briefly brushed her fingertips against his shoulder, trying to show Serah that there was nothing to be afraid of. At least, she desperately prayed that there wasn't. "This is part of our agreement. I'll explain, I promise. Take us up to the others."

Serah turned her head, but kept her eyes on Caius. "I don't understand."

Lightning smiled gently. "I promise, I'll explain everything. Just know he won't harm you."

Everything was quiet for a minute. The three looked between one another – or, at least, Caius looked at her sister, but seemed uncomfortable with looking at _her_. Lightning, anxious, looked carefully at him, but he didn't return the favor. It took her _way_ too long to realize not only was Caius not looking at her, but Serah refused to look at her, too, and instead she was being ignored entirely.

"Serah," she said.

Finally, the other woman looked at her. "I'm… this is–"

"Serah!" Lightning snapped. "Stop that. He's not going to hurt you. He won't hurt _anyone_ anymore. Now, go ahead of us, assemble everyone in the living room, and I _promise_ I'll explain _everything_. Caius isn't dangerous. He can't hurt you, and he will _not_ harm the rest of the world. Now, please, go."

Serah, nodded, backed up, and complied.

Left standing with her now-eternal companion, Lightning chewed her lip. "Not a good way to start."

He looked at her with the same look he had been giving her since this morning. "What does it matter," he said, and it was in no way a question. "They have made their decisions about me, and they are not likely to change. Sooner or later, this will come up again, and they will question this entre arrangement."

She winced and led the way up the slope into the village.

New Bodhum was a place she had not seen with her own eyes until now, and it felt good to do so. The layout was similar to her home on Cocoon, but with less room to put everything because of the narrow strip of beach broken up by natural rock formations. Buildings stood on stilts over the rolling waves. To her right, a cliff separated the beach from whatever lay behind it – possibly dunes or plains.

A few minutes later, she walked side-by-side with Caius into the living room of the NORA house and found that Serah had done as she asked: Snow, Lebreau, Maqui, Gadot, and Yuj were all assembled, along with Serah, as she and Caius walked in. She couldn't help but notice how much longer and broader-shouldered Caius's shadow was compared to hers – a fact that shouldn't have bothered her, but did. Even among all these tall, tanned outdoorsmen, he… didn't quite fit.

"Wow." Lebreau spoke first, a little anxiously, and looked first at Lightning, then at Caius. Indeed, his presence seemed to command everyone's attention, and she could easily see why – the way he carried himself, his tan skin and strong, efficient form, the unusual armor and ancient stare. He was unusual, particularly in this little corner of the world, to say the least. "It's you. It's really _you_. All this time–" She paused. "Noel was totally right about everything. You _are_ alive. Can hardly believe my own eyes. How have you _been_?"

Lightning smiled faintly. "Alive, and fine."

The woman nodded. "And who's the handsome stranger?"

Lightning wondered if Lebreau was being honest or trying to tease her. "This," she said, "is Caius Ballad. He… he'll be staying with us for a while. A _long_ while. In fact–" She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "In fact, he'll be with us forever. More importantly…" This was going to be the kicker. "…he'll be with _me_, forever."

Snow looked incredulous. "What?"

Where could she begin? How could she explain the convoluted mess that had been her life since being dragged away to Valhalla? To try and explain that world, the Heart of Chaos, and Caius's nature to people unfamiliar with most of the world's history and mythology would initially be an exercise in futility. "To put it simply, he has a heart made of a time substance called chaos," she said, "something that grants him immortality. To prevent him from destroying the timeline, as he had been planning, I agreed to take part of it for myself."

Serah cried, "You _what_?"

"I'm immortal now," she said softly. "I'll remain here, but I won't age, and neither will Caius."

Serah turned pale. She walked slowly forward. "You're immortal, and his companion? But…" Frowning, she looked up at Caius, who only gazed back in silence. "I don't _get_ it. We– all of this– I can't– _you_ can't stand him!" There was anger in her voice – anger, and a little betrayal. "You did this? But you don't–"

Lightning cut her off by raising one hand. "I know. But to save you and the world, it's worth it. I'm willing to do _anything_ to save the world, and no matter what this means, it was worth it to see all of you _safe_."

Snow sighed. "Sounds like you for sure."

No one said anything. Caius looked uncomfortable. Yuj and Maqui just looked confused beyond any hope of clarity.

Lightning felt the full weight of everything hit her. "I know it doesn't make sense–"

"It does," Snow muttered.

Trying not to look as upset as she felt, Lightning backed away from Serah. "If there's nothing else, we need to find someplace for _him_–" Here, she jerked her head sidelong at Caius. "–to stay. It's gonna take some time to adjust to this place, and for you to adjust to _him_, so… let's keep it simple, alright?"

Lebreau looked blankly between her and her companion. Yuj and Maqui exchanged bewildered looks. Gadot hadn't said a word, but his frustration, likely from confusion, was very much evident on his face. Before he could say anything, though, he opened and closed his mouth, growled softly, and stood up, marching outside. Maqui followed; Yuj blinked at Lightning.

"After everything that's happened so far," he said, "I got a feelin' I don't _need_ to understand." And with that, he too left the building.

Lightning hung her head a little, frowning at the floor. Serah sighed. "There's a guest room in the north wing. I… guess one of you can stay there… I mean, we might have–"

"Where is it?"

Serah rubbed her arms. "Over to the left down a little hall. Its back window faces the cliff."

"Only one?"

"There aren't any others, no."

"Caius," Lightning said, facing him now, "you're going to have to find somewhere else. I'm staying here with my family and you're not part of it. If you can't find anywhere else, come talk to me. Is that understood?"

He scowled at her, but it faded. "Yes."

"Good. Get going."

The man turned on his heel and left; Serah led Lightning down to the guest room, a semi-spacious bedroom with a closet, a twin bed, two windows, and a fan overhead. It wasn't that big, just sizable enough for her to walk around in without tripping, with smooth, tan walls decorated with seashells strung on pieces of rope. The décor reminded her of the sea – a blown-glass container full of sand on one windowsill, a painting of a fish beside the door, a rug beside the bed inlaid with images of starfish, and a plastic seahorse suction-cupped to the other window.

"Oh." Serah chuckled softly and pried off the seahorse. "Maqui slept here when we first built the place and left that here. I've been meaning to take–"

"Leave it. Please."

Serah blinked, but did as she was asked. "Well, this is yours," she said. "The bathroom's off the living room and you can put whatever you want in the closet. I kept all the stuff we got of yours off Cocoon."

Lightning opened the closet to find several large plastic containers. "Yikes."

"Yeah, I know. Have fun."

Lightning started to close the closet before she felt Serah's heavy stare. "What's wrong?"

Serah stuttered for a moment. "It's…" she began, swallowed, and finally said, "I'm still… I'm _amazed_ you're here, and not going anywhere. From my perspective, sis, you were gone for _three years_. It might not have been that long to you, but to me…" She trailed off; Lightning faced her to see her staring at the floor between her feet.

"Serah," Lightning said, and hugged her, "I'm not going anywhere ever again."

"Neither is _he_," she said, and Lightning grimaced.

"He's my problem, so let me deal with him," she said. "I'm not going anywhere, Serah, and I promise I won't ever abandon you again. Now," she added, pulling back and touching her sister's chin, "stop dwelling on it. Everything's fine, alright? I'm here. You're here. The timeline's secure. Stop worrying."

The other woman nodded. "I know. I'm just… I'm glad to see you, and know you're safe."

Lightning half-smiled. "Me, too. Now, go on."

Serah left, and Lightning pulled out a top container, prying the lid off carefully. Inside, she found all her old clothes – the few she had besides a backup uniform – along with different pairs of footwear. She removed everything and either hung it up or set it on the closet floor before moving on to another container. Each one was like opening a present: pictures in frames, awards from her Guardian Corps years, odds and ends, knickknacks – things she forgot she'd had, some of them many years old.

At the bottom of the last container, tucked carefully beneath a stack of sealed envelopes, she found a stuffed animal – specifically, a blue Cocoon chocobo, worn around the edges with a tuft missing from its neck and threads hanging off its feet.

Lightning stopped, staring at it. Tears tickled her eyes and her throat tightened up. "I forgot about you," she said, gently tracing its floppy stuffed wing. Trying not to let her emotions overflow, she hugged the toy against her and buried her face in its softness. What did it hurt to keep the thing? It might be a child's toy, but she had learned to appreciate even small, silly things like these.

Someone knocked on the door.

Reacting instead of thinking, she tossed the toy back in the bin, wincing when she realized her door was open and no doubt whoever it was had already seen it. "Yeah?" She looked over her left shoulder to see Caius there, amusingly out of place in the very normal surroundings of the guest room. He didn't look as severe this time, expression close to neutral.

"One of the other villagers has set up shop as an innkeeper of sorts and agreed to let me stay by putting me on a tab," he told her. His voice was stiff and formal. "I must find some source of income."

Lightning nodded. "Good."

Hesitating, he looked between her and the bin. "What did you find?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're looking a bit… upset. What did you find to make you that way?"

"None of your business," she said, curtly.

He sighed. "Lightning, I _can_ feel your emotional state within me, and it isn't doing well. Still, if you'd rather not tell me, I understand."

Lightning hesitated, staring at him. His words were interesting, to say the least. Would he really give this whole thing an honest-to-goodness try? Would he truly attempt to bring the two of them out of the darkness they had warred in for so long and into the light of normal life? It wouldn't be easy, but maybe it was worth trying.

Reaching into the bin, she picked up the toy again and held it up for him to see.

"This was mine." Her voice was quiet. "I've had it most of my life. I know it's stupid. Should've let it go when I got in the military, but…" She couldn't look at him, ashamed that she was talking about a stupid stuffed bird toy.

"You didn't," he said when she trailed off.

"No. I cried into it when Mom died, clung to it when I first knew she was sick, trying to throw it away afterward, stuffing it in a drawer, hiding it…" Hesitating, she swallowed her emotions. "But, inevitably, it'd always come back. It'd end up on my pillow or wrapped in my arms at night."

She heard him shift his weight. "Memories can be difficult."

"Yeah." She swallowed again, regaining control of her emotions. "Yeah, they definitely can."

This time, the hesitation lingered much longer, enough that Lightning got the chance to put the toy back in the bin and close it up. Then he said, "Perhaps you should keep it and try to form new memories. You're with your sister now and she is what you fought for."

A little surprised, she looked up at him. "You're serious."

His lips twitched. "I am."

Lightning hesitated and looked back at the bin again. She gave up, opened the bin, pulled out the toy, and shoved the now-empty container beside the others. Feeling awkward in front of the towering warrior at her door, she didn't look at him as she placed the worn toy on her sheets. To ignore the desire to cuddle up to a thing like this was kind of stupid now – Valhalla was a place of warriors, but _this_ was reality, and she didn't need to be that tough anymore.

"Well," she muttered, not to anyone in particular, "how's that?"

"Better," he said.

Lightning looked at him to see him gazing back at her with an unreadable expression.

After a moment of this, she said, "Excuse me."

Brushing past him, she walked out into the living room and saw Serah messing with a flowering plant potted neatly in the corner. Looking around the room gave her a better idea of what sort of home this was: the living room was more or less the center of _everything_ in the house, with every other room branching off it. There was a porch-patio out the front door, which was a sliding wood-panel door rather than a conventional door. The floor was hardwood with the occasional rug. Potted plants in the corners and a lazy-looking fan over the center gave the place a warm and very relaxing atmosphere.

"Hey, Serah?"

Her sister looked up. "Hey. What's up?"

"Does the bathroom have a working shower?"

The woman looked bewildered for a second, then smirked and said, "Come with me." She led Lightning into the bathroom, a little chamber nestled at the back of the main space, and flipped a switch that flooded the room with soft ambient light. Lightning looked around in awe of sandy tile and surprising spaciousness. "There's the shower in the corner – it's built for anyone up to Snow's size, so it'll be plenty big enough for you. The tile shouldn't be slippery when it gets wet and there's plenty of hot water."

Lightning walked forward and touched the shower spigot, stroking it with her fingertips. "I haven't had a shower since I jumped on the Purge train."

Serah choked on her laughter. "I'm… guessing this is like heaven, then, huh?"

"I'm dying for a shower."

"Be sure to get something to wear."

Lightning looked down at herself. "Probably a good idea," she said, and shooed her sister out of the room while she returned to the guest room – now her room – to grab some fresh clothes for her shower. Caius was gone, thankfully, and everything in her room undisturbed. She returned to the bathroom, closed and locked the door, cracked the window, threw off her clothes, and jumped into a waterfall of liquid heaven.

There were already soaps in the shower, so she picked the one she liked the best – for some reason, she landed on a minty one shaped like a conch shell – and used it to lather _everything_. It seemed like Valhalla hadn't been the cleanest place after all as sweat and dust came peeling off her body. It was hard not to stare in horrified fascination at the dirty water swirling down the drain. Once she was completely clean, she grabbed a big, fluffy towel and dried off, then stepped into the first real fresh clothes she'd worn in weeks.

Walking back out into the living room, she sat on the couch and leaned back. Serah had to be making pretty good money as a teacher, or else the combined efforts of everyone in NORA had managed to make this beautiful home a reality.

Lebreau was in the middle of dusting off a coffee table and looked at her. "Ah, better?"

Lightning smiled, for real. "Much."

* * *

The first few days were strange for Lightning as she adjusted to multiple oddities at once – Serah being the same age as her, Serah and Snow talking of marriage now that she was back, Sazh and Dajh coming to visit regularly from their home on the other side of the cliff, monster hunting in the middle of the night, Lebreau having coffee ready in the morning and drinks on the house for the NORA tenants in the evening, the gradual spreading of the village out onto the dunes and into the wilderness, and smelling eggs every few mornings as Serah fried them up in such a way that their scent permeated the house.

The strangest adjustment was getting used to Caius's presence. The man stayed unusually quiet at first, generally at ease in the crowds but having trouble making conversation with only a few people. In the mornings, he either came in briefly to see how everyone was or sat on the beach to watch the tides change before returning home. Lebreau talked to him as he sat at her bar in the living room, but was lucky if she got more than one- or two-word answers out of him. Honestly, it was a little annoying.

About a week after returning to the normal world, Lightning wore a tee-shirt and soft pants instead of her uniform to join the others out in the living area, finding herself becoming more at ease now that she was getting back into the groove of real life. Serah and Lebreau worked together to clean the kitchen of their escapades that morning, talking and laughing together. Lightning, enjoying that sound, sat down in the living room on the couch against the far wall to stretch out and relax.

"–and then he straight-up asked me, 'are you single, yes or no?' And I just…" Lebreau broke off into laughter and had to stop cleaning for a minute. "I just– I just– it was like, _what_? What're you getting at? I guess he thought, hey, beach party! Let's go pick up a chick!"

Serah wiped off a spotty glass and put it up in the cupboard. "Admit it, you're too cute to ignore!"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "Guess so."

Lightning leaned back and folded her arms under her head. "Hey, Serah, have you heard anything about that patrol group yet? The New Bodhum Security Regiment?"

"Oh, hi, sis." Serah glanced at her. "They're still looking for members. They need, uh, fifteen…?"

"Thirteen," Lebreau corrected.

"Oh, right, thirteen members before they can become official. Once they are, you're pretty much back in business as a monster hunter and riot control. There's still people moving down off Cocoon, so this place will grow fast if things keep going so well. Hey, Lebreau, hand me the pink one."

The dark-haired woman obliged. "Why do we have a pink fluted glass that looks like a sheep?"

Serah stopped and looked at it. "I'm not sure."

Lightning spotted a silhouette out of the corner of her eye and saw Caius walk in the room. Even after a week of living in the hot, humid ocean air, he still wore his armor. While it made him look imposing, it didn't seem all that practical here, especially outside of constant warfare, so as he sat down at the bar, she stood and walked over to him.

"Still wearing the same fashions?" she said.

He looked confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You know." Lightning sat beside him. "The armor. It's not like you need it. Don't you think you should take it off and switch it for something else?"

At this, he seemed insulted. "This armor has protected me for centuries, and I don't plan to remove it. It is practical for fighting." He held up a hand as she started to speak. "I know what you are about to say – that my old life is gone and this no longer matters. I do not agree. All I have known for centuries is war."

"But you don't _have_ to," she said. "You're here, far away from war and violence. Look, if you don't want to take it off, fine. But it'll help you have a normal life."

He snorted softly. "Do you intentionally forget what I say, Lightning?"

"Oh, what, no normal lives?"

"Precisely. You and I can never have normal lives. We are outcasts. We are _nothing_. Sub-human. To even _think_ that we could have normal lives is preposterous. You are deluding yourself," he added, interrupting her as she started to speak again, "wearing this sort of clothing and trying to smile. We both know the truth. We'll always be on the outside, never able to fall in love, never able to enjoy life to the fullest, always cut off."

She scowled at him. "Look, _Ballad_, maybe your life was awful, but _mine_, really, wasn't. I'm seizing it. I'm getting it back. It's too precious."

"You're still deluding yourself."

"No." She leaned closer. "_You_ are. You're _trying_ to cut yourself off."

At this, he stood. "I told you, Lightning. We cannot be normal. We're cut off forever, some sort of quantum paradox locked in time. If you cannot see or accept that, then you're lost." Without another word, he turned away and went back down toward the beachhead to the north.

Lightning pounded a fist on the polished wood. Serah squeaked softly.

Lebreau walked up, polishing a glass in a way that said she was just keeping her hands busy. "He's an idiot. A _handsome_ idiot, but still an idiot."

* * *

Later that evening, Lightning climbed out of bed feeling more rested than she had in a long time, having napped for several hours after a lengthy beach patrol. Coming out into the main living space, she found Serah and Snow talking excitedly. She only caught snippets of the conversation, none of which made very much sense to her, so she walked out into full view, expecting her sister to notice her. Instead, the woman kept talking to Snow, now taking his hands in hers to grasp them tightly. Even when Lightning cleared her throat, they went on talking as if she wasn't there.

Lightning grunted. "Serah Farron!"

Her sister yelped and whirled to face her. "Lightning! Oh, sorry, didn't see you!"

Somehow, she wasn't surprised. "Hello to you, too. What exactly is going on over here?"

As she spoke, Caius came in from the beach in his usual routine, looking as though he had just woken up, sitting at his usual place at the bar. Lebreau was already up and wordlessly placed a glass in front of him, filling it with some bluish liquid Lightning didn't recognize and had never bothered to ask after. As he thanked her quietly and lifted it, she began to wonder what it was.

"Well," Serah said, her tone revealing her inability to contain her excitement, "you know how Snow and I were here after you disappeared three years ago? Well, in the two years before he disappeared too, we lived here, but we never got married. Now you're back, so–" Grinning, she seized his hand again. "–we're going to do it!"

Lightning smiled. "Good, finally."

"And I want you to be my maid of honor!"

The smile disappeared. "I'm your _sister_, Serah, and you know how I–" Pause. Chuckling, she smiled again and shook her head. "You know what, fine. I'll be your maid of honor. Guess it doesn't hurt, huh?" Walking up to her sister, she clasped her shoulder. "I'm happy to."

"See? Told you she'd be fine with it!" Snow laughed and patted her shoulder. "Good! It's settled! Now, I'm thinking of inviting pretty much _everyone_ in this village – oh, and Gadot being the best man or something – and I think it'll be a big deal! We're trying to get as many people as possible involved in the ceremony. Can you think of anyone to add?"

Immediately, Lightning's thoughts wandered to Caius, sitting in silence at the bar, and she even briefly glanced in his direction, but her eyes roved so it didn't look like she was thinking of including him. "Nah," she said, "can't think of anyone right now. Uh, when is it?" She tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment that touched her heart – a feeling that didn't belong to her at all.

"Oh, it'll be a while," Serah assured her. "Probably about a month. I still haven't gotten any of the big stuff together or figured out any details–"

"Serah, it doesn't have to be huge and fancy."

"It won't be. I mean, there'll be lots of people, but not a lot of fluff. You know, like what you would have."

Lightning rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Don't do what I'd do. Do what _you_ want."

Serah grinned. "I will, believe me. _We_ will."

She and her fiancé grinned at each other before trotting off out the door onto the beach. Caius watched them go, leaning on the counter. Lightning looked at him for a second before walking over to the coffee table and picking up a magazine that had slid off onto the floor, probably in Serah and Snow's pre-marriage excitement. When she looked up again, Caius had disappeared.

* * *

_I apologize for the inconsistent writing in this chapter. The first eight or nine chapters were written when I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go with this, so I had to go back and rewrite a great deal of it, including adding that entire section at the beginning with Snow. When first conceived, this story was only meant to have three chapters, but it's grown to be pretty long. I expect this thing to easily be forty chapters long, but we'll see. Enjoy!_


	4. Can't Help It

_**4 Can't Help It**_

As the morning sun rose above the horizon to set the sky ablaze, Caius headed into the NORA house, not liking the prospect of facing Lightning today. After their brief argument the previous day, he wasn't sure she would even want to look at him. At least it was cooler inside, the temperature noticeably lower; as usual, he sat down at the bar and looked around. Lebreau tended the bar and looked sidelong at him as she mixed something. Serah was nowhere in sight, and neither was Lightning, or anyone else for that matter besides the bartender.

"Hey, you," she greeted him.

He leaned on the counter and stretched just enough for his shoulders to pop. "Morning."

"Always mister talkative." She sealed the container she held and shook it vigorously. It was some sort of liquid and purple in color; Caius didn't think it looked very appetizing at all. "I need a different job. I mean, I love doing this, don't get me wrong, but it's not exactly full-time. I'm just waiting for the New Bodhum Security Regiment to start asking for members."

This piqued his interest. "Security Regiment?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "After three years, they've finally got almost enough members now that everyone's more or less settled into their normal lives. Lightning's looking to join up to get back into the groove. When she does, she can get a paycheck." Lebreau faced him and cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe you should think about joining, too. You can move out of that inn."

Caius rested both elbows on the counter and laced his fingers together. "I may do that."

The woman nodded. "By the way," she said, "you wanted to destroy time?"

Caius frowned and said nothing.

The sound of footsteps came to him from his left. It was Lightning, walking in off the beach with sand all over her legs and palms. Beside her, Serah, untouched except on her feet, giggled. The two women didn't seem to notice him as they walked in – or they just didn't care. He wasn't sure which it was, and wasn't sure it mattered.

"I'm just not used this," Lightning muttered.

Serah laughed. "Of course not. You've _never_ been normal! Frolicking on the beach has never been your thing!"

"Guess it is _now_. Look what you did!"

"_I_ warned you, and _you_ still tripped anyway!"

Caius looked her up and down as Lightning shook off the sand. There was a bronze tinge to her skin now, very faint, but noticeable. She seemed more relaxed, and he suddenly realized that, outside of a few of Yeul's grainy visions, he had never seen her before Valhalla. He didn't really _know_ this woman at all. Was she a woman with the ability to be like this all the time? Or was she made of steel skin and barbed wire?

Serah looked at him now, and he noticed her expression harden a little. Caius tried not to return the favor, but he felt his body tense. From here, he could feel Lightning's emotional state – a quietly positive one – and tried to let it affect his own emotional state.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll get it," Serah said as Lightning groaned at the floor. "It's just sand."

"It's _everywhere_," Lightning muttered.

"That's what the hardwood's for – _we live on a beach_," her sister said, helping brush more sand off her legs. "That was kind of a hard fall. Here, sit down and make sure your knees don't swell and you can tell me all about your new job, alright?"

Curious about this development, Caius twisted to look at Lightning directly.

"Now." Serah sat beside her. "What's up?"

Lightning groaned again, then picked her head up to look at her sister. "Well, aren't you energetic? Guess all that time-traveling loosened you up." She crossed one leg over her knee and smiled. "Well, first, guess who's calling the shots?" Pause. "I guess you never met him, but, well, it's one of Fang's old PSICOM buddies, Rygdea."

Serah blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. He lives on the east side of the settlement and there's lots of monsters out there, since it borders the plains, so he figured there needs to be some good security. I offered, he said okay, and I'm enlisted now. We start training on Monday – get the weekend off."

"Are they still taking recruits?" Caius asked.

Lightning looked at him. He noticed the way her carefree attitude changed to a more severe one, mostly in how the skin around her eyes tightened. Instinctively, he felt himself bristle, half-expecting her to launch herself at him in a sudden attempt at stirring up a war between them once again. Her smiling lips straightened out. He had to remind himself not to react, as this was no longer a warzone, but the fringes of her wary, untrusting emotions bled into him as they stared at each other.

Was this ever going to end? Their little exchange in the guest room was either a fluke, or a whisper of what sort of amicable relationship, even if it wasn't quite a true friendship, they could have.

"Think so," she said, nodding. "Thinking of getting out of the inn?"

"I was considering it, yes."

"Good. Maybe it'll keep you busy, too." She looked back at her sister and they began to talk again, excluding him entirely. Frustrated, Caius leaned on the counter again and felt Lebreau's stare, but when he looked at her, she only blinked and turned away, leaving him very confused.

* * *

A few days later, on a clear, golden morning, Caius stood on a bluff overlooking the village of New Bodhum, allowing him see both the western half on the ocean and the eastern half built on the dunes on the other side of the cliff. Construction of fresh buildings had begun on both sides, including a second inn on the dunes. Where the meteorite had landed – and where now there was just a grassy basin – someone had commissioned a home, the foundation of which was just beginning to be laid down.

While he had saved up enough to move out of the inn, no one had yet moved out of their old homes and no one was currently renting, so he was stuck paying for weekly boarding at the inn. If Serah and Snow, who were finalizing their wedding plans, ended up adding another wing to the NORA house by tunneling into the cliff as they'd been talking about doing, though, they had offered to let him stay there as long as he, like everyone else in the house, paid his share of the rent. Caius, who had slept everywhere from bedrock to thick forests to comfortable beds, found this offer more than welcome.

Lightning, however, hadn't looked so pleased.

Trying not to be too obvious about it, he glanced sideways at her as she stood beside him. They were supposed to be scanning for trouble, but not a single word had been exchanged between them. Ever since Snow had mentioned his idea and Serah had agreed, the woman simply stopped talking to him unless it was necessary. This was just a pause in their patrol, as Lightning was _supposed_ to be showing him the patrol routes. There was no formal training just yet – she and the others were essentially making things up as they went along.

He waited, feeling a small bit awkward, as she scanned the area with both hands over her eyes. They had only been up here for maybe thirty seconds, and already he was eager to keep moving. Standing in full view of the town was not exactly what he wanted to do.

So, he decided to break the silence. "Lightning."

She didn't look at him. "What?"

"Do you see anything?"

"Did I say a word?"

He gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at her. If there was one thing he needed to learn, it was to control his temper – and his tongue – when it came to everyday conversation. Intimidation and eloquence might work when the world was at stake, but not so much with a fire-tempered woman who could dish out everything she could take _and_ had the ability to back up it up with fists.

"Could we be moving on?" The longer he was up here, feeling exposed, the more anxious he became.

"I'm not done." Her tone was clipped.

"It's been two weeks and I have caused no trouble. When will you let this go?"

"You expect me to let everything you did and tried to do _go_? What you tried–" She cut herself off, sighing. "Look, Caius, all we did in Valhalla was fight and argue. You were always trying to kill me or Etro. Excuse me if I'm not ready to welcome you as one of the family."

"Excuse me if my morning visits were harbingers of the apocalypse."

He definitely saw her lips twitch. "Don't patronize me, Ballad. And don't try to be funny, you're not good at it."

"Yes I am."

"No you're–" She scoffed and turned her back to him. "Look, just… just a few more minutes. Do your work."

"You picked a fight with _me_."

"Not true."

"I beg to differ."

"You asked if we could move on."

"That was not an _argument_," he pointed out, looking sidelong at her. "I feel like we have been here long enough now. If we are to finish our patrols, we _must_ keep moving. Or do you want Rygdea to consider the two of us not worth keeping around just yet?"

She faced him. "Listen, you've been nothing but trouble up until now, and I can't figure out _why_ you're being so–" She made an odd-sounding grunt he had trouble keeping a straight face at. "So _nice_. You haven't been demanding or picking fights or swinging that sword– where _is_ that sword?"

He sighed. "At the inn."

"Fine, whatever, my point is this is getting kind of–"

"Old? Lightning, I know it's difficult to believe, but I will _not_ cause trouble. I'm not interested in dredging up a war or picking a fight with you. All I want to do is live my life, _peacefully_, and if that means I have to _leave_, I will!"

"And look! We're _still_ fighting and arguing!"

"You started this one!"

"No I did–" Abruptly, she cut herself off, then brushed past him and headed back toward the dunes. "Come on, let's finish this before I break your neck."

Although it wouldn't be a permanent injury, he was still wary as he followed her. That she still wanted to push him away worried him, and he began to seriously doubt that they would ever get along. More than that, in the back of his mind, guilt threatened to creep into him – about turning his back on Yeul, about neglecting her, no matter the consequences, and of coming here to be an alien.

Neither of them said a word as she led the way through patrol paths not yet worn into the brush. There was no need to, as the emotions coming off both of them were more than a little unsettled.

* * *

The patrols were called off at midday, Rygdea bringing the group back to the shallows at that time to tell them of a fantastic new development: a small building just past the cliff was being finished, and they would be able to meet there when the time came. After giving them this news, he dismissed everyone without a word of explanation as to what this building was, and Caius ended up following Lightning all the way back to the house, as she still refused to speak to him.

Lightning picked a spot on the couch to sit. Snow was pacing, looking excited and worried. Caius decided it was best if he stayed standing for now.

"What's this?" Lightning asked.

"Serah just picked out her wedding dress and won't let me see it," Snow said. "She's getting it tailored."

Caius tipped his head. "That explains the pacing."

"Snow, seriously," Lightning said, "you're gonna wear a patch on the hardwood! Sit down!"

The big blond groaned and sat down in an armchair _just_ big enough for his thick frame. Caius, being of somewhat slimmer build but about the same height himself, understood how uncomfortable it was to sit in a chair meant for someone of average height and feel like he'd stretch it out. "It's _agonizing_," he mumbled. "She'll be beautiful and all, but… can't I _see_ her?"

"No," Lightning said.

Snow briefly lifted his eyebrows. "That answers that," he said, leaning back. A second later, he leaned forward again with widened eyes. "I almost can't wait that long. We haven't even decided when the ceremony will be. Ah, but," he added, leaning back again, "it'll be worth it. A beach ceremony with flowers. Wow. Can't wait. It'll be so amazing, but why does it have to take so long?" Once more, he leaned forward, and this time the chair squeaked quietly.

"Snow, you're killing the chair," Lightning said.

"Someone can fix it." He met Lightning's stare and looked sheepish. "Right. Sorry. But you get my point, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Silence fell, and the sun set outside into the sea. Lebreau, having joined the security regiment as a part-time member, hadn't come back as she made her usual late-night rounds inviting everyone to the reception. It seemed everyone was excited for the upcoming ceremony but himself, which bothered him in a way that wasn't small. He still felt like an outsider – sure, Lebreau treated him well enough and anyone who hadn't known him a world-destroying terror was at least friendly, but everyone else held him more or less at arm's length. That he had been pointedly left out of the ceremony and its proceedings bothered him.

Right now, he felt the fringes of Lightning's emotions, their proximity making it difficult to ignore them, and he turned his focus inward to try and untangle them.

Joy. There was definitely joy at seeing her sister finally married to the man who had been willing to face the whole world to save her. There was also contentment. Deep within the knot, though, he found something dark that lashed out and drove him back for a second before he tried again. There – sadness.

She was _sad_?

Then, suddenly, he felt something biting into the back of his hand and looked down to see her digging her nails into the tendons. Her eyes were bright with blue fire he felt as something painful in his soul. Before he could ask what was going on, she seized his wrist and dragged him outside. The beach was nearly deserted except for a few couples strolling in the sunset light; she yanked him to a stop on the porch, away from the door.

"Don't do that," she snarled quietly.

"Do what?" he asked.

"You reached into me and dug into my emotions. I felt it. Don't do that. Don't you _dare_ do that. Caius, my heart is private, I don't _care_ if half of it is yours–" She caught herself and started speaking again barely a half-second after saying those words. "I just don't _care_. You stay out of _me_, and keep yourself to _yourself_. Don't _invade_ me like that!"

"Lightning," he murmured, "I'm sorry."

She seemed to sense his honesty, if the softening of her eyes was any indication. "Things would be a lot better between us if it weren't for this stupid thing," she said, tapping her breast. Her half of the Heart of Chaos glowed in response. "I think we could get along. But there's no _privacy_ in this relationship."

"I did give you many warnings."

"You did, and I still believe saving the world is more important than my comfort. But–" Seeming to suddenly realize she still had his wrist, she released it and bit her lip.

"We still fight," he muttered.

She scoffed quietly and shrugged one shoulder. "Guess we can't help it."

"Do you really _want_ to fight?"

She hesitated, looking at him, blue eyes clear again. They reflected the sunset light, which gave them a slight golden tinge around one half of the iris, and he stared at it for a moment, taking it in. The light softened her face in a way that made her elegant and beautiful. Caius had spent many centuries around many cultures and many people, but his eyes and mind had not dulled to beauty.

"No," she admitted, "I don't."

"Then tell me, Lightning – why are you sad?"

There was a flare of anger, but it died quickly enough. "It's nothing," she murmured, then looked across the sea at the setting sun. "It has something to do with my– with _our_ curse, but it's nothing to worry about."

"You are still deluding yourself."

"Wanting a normal life?" The flash of anger returned, lingering this time. "I know. Someday it'll get taken away and reality'll set in – when my sister gets lines on her face, or one of the older ones passes away. Then, when I'm standing there looking _exactly_ the way I do now… I'll finally get it."

"It doesn't get any easier."

"I know, and your constant reminders are _not_ what I need!"

Caius took a deep breath and stored that away in his memory. That was true. Having lived for over a millennium, he was used to seeing people be born, grow up, grow old, and die, used to making friends only to have them leave such a short time later, used to having long ago bid a permanent goodbye to his family, but Lightning wasn't. This was still very new to her.

Without another word, she turned and walked back inside. Caius stared after her, getting a sinking feeling that told him all was _not_ right with her world, but let it go for now and went back inside.

"Everything okay?" Snow asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine, don't worry," Lightning said. She waved a hand in a gesture obviously meant to look unconcerned. "Just talking."

Caius hesitated just inside the door and watched Lightning sit down again. Feeling oddly dejected, he looked at the floor a moment as the two resumed conversation. Nothing had changed. Still an outsider, still a foreigner, he did not belong among mortals anymore. He had not belonged ever since he had been cursed. Lightning didn't understand it yet because no one she loved had died, but someday that would come to pass. Quietly, so as to not draw attention, he slipped away and headed up the beach toward the north.

As he walked along the sunset shore, he felt frustration and anger burning inside him. Where Lightning had thought this would solve everything, he'd suspected it wouldn't.

And, it seemed, he had been right.

Loneliness was the price to see the world continue on. He was alone, even if his former adversary shouldered his curse with him. He was an outsider, and this time he didn't have Yeul, the only one who truly seemed to understand his plight, to comfort him. No, all he had was _himself_.

Before he realized it, he was running, down the shore, along the beach, sometimes having to scramble over rocks and dunes, turning inland when he reached an impassable cliff. Into the wilderness he ran, across the grassy plains, into the evening darkness as it crept in from all sides. It felt _good_ to run, to hear his heart pounding and feel his chest begin to burn, reminders of his continued mortality in spite of the curse locked in his breast. With Cocoon on his right and the open plains on his left, he just ran, not thinking, not knowing where he would end up, not knowing where he was going, just knowing he had to _run_.

As he did, pushing on even when his body screamed for rest, the anger continued to grow the further inland he traveled. Eventually, it morphed into something else, something that wrapped a noose around his neck and pulled it tight as his vision blurred a little.

Finally, he had to stop, a long way from the sea, Cocoon much smaller now, the heavens very dark except for the last tinge of sunset at his back with the stars glittering. He realized he was a few miles from the Farseer settlement he had lived in for the hundreds of years after Paddra's fall, tucked away in a valley near the Steppe.

_That_ was where he truly belonged.

He slept on the ground under the open sky, unconcerned with whatever could be flying around out there, and set out again in the morning once the mists cleared away and the sun began to brighten the sky. A while later, he climbed through a cleft gouged in a cliff – one of the only paths to the naturally fortified valley – and entered, seeing the familiar waving grasses and the tall wind-altering machines.

It wouldn't be the same without Yeul, but it was home.

He began to walk.

* * *

Lightning sensed Caius's heavy emotions, but pushed them away from her heart and instead focused her attention solely on Snow, who was now sitting quietly. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. He gazed down at his hands, the fingers crossing over each other and twitching on his thighs; she crossed one leg and folded her arms, waiting to see what he would say.

"I've been helping protect this town since we found the area," he said. "I pretty much just reinstated NORA here for the two years before I left, and they took over when I was gone." He hesitated, and his expression darkened a little. "Rygdea said that I might be part of the security regiment. Might even _command_ it."

"You? Commanding?" She smirked. "Interesting."

"It depends," he said. "There's been work for the past three years, trying to get a provisional government off the ground, but everyone's been so scattered or still migrating that it hasn't really happened. Now that everything's kind of settled, it might actually happen, but nobody's sure how to begin."

"Is everyone off Cocoon?"

Pause. "No."

She blinked. "No."

"No. Some are just refusing to leave."

"And you think a provisional government might be able to get them down here?"

"We're hoping it might."

"Who's 'we'?"

Snow leaned back. "The people talkin'. Sazh, Hope and his dad, Rygdea, every former member of the Sanctum still alive, those folks."

She hesitated. "With a government comes a military."

"I know." He looked her in the eye, and there was absolutely no indication that this man was anything less than completely serious. "Look, it's all just talk right now, okay? We don't know what'll happen just yet. But we've got to do _something_, because we both know about the possible future. No one else really knows about it, except from what little they understood from what Noel told 'em, but they might have to one day. We _can't_ let that come to pass, and if something _does_ happen to Cocoon, _no one_ should be on it."

Lightning frowned and fiddled with the hem of her uniform, not sure what she could say to that.

* * *

_Thanks for all the follows and reviews you guys have been providing, it honestly does mean a lot to me. Remember, I appreciate a little CC too because I am an aspiring novelist and, well, you can see where I'm going with this. Enjoy, and don't forget to drop a review!_


	5. Failed Promises

_**5 Failed Promises**_

The next morning, Lightning came out to find breakfast laid out and Serah already gone for work.

Sitting on the couch and using the coffee table as the breakfast table, she forced herself to _slowly_ eat the big plate of scrambled eggs, so fresh the yolks were orange and the whites perfectly clear, combined with crisped hash browns, fresh Pulsian fruit cut by her sister's skilled (and patient) hand, and a crunchy vegetable with a thick brown skin she carefully ate the meat out of. She then deposited the plate and utensils in the sink, rinsed them, washed them, and stacked them, started to head out the front door, and hesitated.

"Lebreau?" she called out.

The woman was just getting ready to go to work herself, her old beachwear changed out for a security uniform that protected her skin both from the hot sun and the blistering heat of muzzle flashes. "Oh, hey," she said, "is something wrong? You look a little curious."

She was, and didn't bother to try and hide it now. "Have you seen Caius this morning?"

"Uh, no, actually. Didn't come in."

"Didn't? At all?"

"No. Thought it was weird, since he _always_ comes and orders the same thing."

Lightning walked over to the bar, tugging on the hem of her uniform jacket at the same time. "What _is_ that stuff he always gets? That weird blue stuff?"

"That?" Lebreau shrugged. "He introduced it to me. It's made from nectar pressed out of a wildflower that blooms off and on throughout the year. Real sweet but strangely nutritious too – contains a bunch of vitamins, plus some minerals out of the soil." She hesitated. "You worried about him?"

Lightning shrugged one shoulder. "He must have a good reason for not coming in this morning. Probably just went to work early."

Lebreau nodded, then said, "He really tried to destroy the world?"

"Well–" Lightning hesitated. "Well, yes, he did, but… he won't try it again. I mean, he shouldn't." Hesitating, she chewed her lip. "He's not dangerous, I don't think."

"It's fine," the other woman said with a shrug. "I don't mind another handsome face around here."

Lightning cocked an eyebrow. "Can't say I agree he's handsome, but… whatever."

The two women headed out a few minutes later toward the usual meeting place by the tidal shallows. The group of security volunteers essentially consisted of the NORA group, plus a few others, including Lightning and a couple of people she didn't know. It seemed NORA had become a rather large group in her absence, including many members from all over the village, but it still wasn't that big, close to two dozen, but even then she wasn't sure.

As she walked there with Lebreau, who tried to chat her up, she responded, but drifted a little all the same, feeling a weight on her heart she knew didn't belong to her. She knew it was Caius's haphazard emotions she sensed.

Had she accidentally chased him off?

"We're gettin' close to that building being ready," Rygdea said. The brown-haired man wasn't much taller than her, with sky-blue eyes and a drawling way of speaking. Laid-back though he might seem, he was actually very sharp and had an oddly commanding presence. "For now, I'm just wantin' patrols. Get out and get goin'. Trustin' y'all to take your midmorning breaks on time."

Lebreau was bright-eyed when she said, "I won't let these guys slack off."

He looked sideways at her with a lopsided grin. "Yeah, sure, walk the talk, girl. Now get outta my sight."

As the group disbanded, Lightning clenched her hand in a fist and held it to the Heart of Chaos. Something was wrong, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions until she had a better idea of what she was dealing with. She headed back into the village, doing her morning patrol as she was assigned, but making a quick detour at her first break to visit the inn where the man was staying. If anyone knew whether Caius was around, the innkeeper, who kept a sharp eye on everything that went on at his business, would.

"Hey, Biggs," she said, walking into the inn and leaning on the counter. The innkeeper, a man with sunburned shoulders and tan skin, looked up. "Have you seen Caius?"

He blinked. "Hi, Lightning. Been a while. Have I seen Caius? Nope. I mean, he was here yesterday morning, but he didn't come back all night and I haven't seen him since."

A sinking feeling entered the pit of her stomach. "Not a glimpse?"

"No sign of him, no."

"What about Wedge?" she asked, referring to his best friend and only security guard. "Has he seen anything?"

"Same as I told you. Caius hasn't been in or out since yesterday morning. He's gone."

Lightning thanked him and went back out.

Where had Caius gone off to? It was dangerous, him running off, mainly because there was no telling what sort of trouble he would get into. Then again, maybe he had just disappeared for a day or two and would come back in a short while. Still, since Caius had been so eager to break the timeline before, there was no telling what could set off the volatile man in a way that might make him try to do it again. Almost anxious now, she paced along the shore. He was _her_ responsibility, _her_ problem, and _she_ had to take care of him.

She finished her duties, stopping at midday to have lunch before resuming them and returning home in the evening hours.

"Has Caius been in at all?" were the first words out of her mouth once she crossed the threshold.

Lebreau looked surprised, while Serah, who was still in her work clothes, cocked her head curiously. "You haven't seen him all day?" she asked.

Lightning realized how her concern – and lack of a normal greeting – might look to those used to her coming home tired but content, so she straightened and wiped that look off her face. "It's Caius we're talking about," she pointed out. "He was going to destroy the _world_, remember? I'm worried he might try again if he decides his promise isn't worth keeping. If you haven't seen him, you might need to be worried."

"We haven't seen him at all," Serah said.

Lightning tried not to let her worry reach her features. "I'll give him one more night," she said. "If he doesn't come back by tomorrow morning, I'm looking for him. Can't have him raising a ruckus and trying to save the world again if I can help it. Takin' a shower, then bed." Giving Serah a sidelong glance, she went to her room, picked out fresh clothes for the night, slipped into the bathroom, and threw herself into a bit-too-hot shower.

* * *

The morning came, a Thursday morning, meaning that the weekend wasn't far off, something Lightning looked forward to. When she woke up two hours before sunrise, she merely turned over and went back to sleep, only to wake up an hour later with her chocobo squished beneath her. She got up and straightened out her bed before going out into the main living area.

No one was there. This bothered Lightning more than Caius's absence during the weekday: on the weekend, he came in, waiting for her to get up, and greeted her with a slight nod she usually returned. Once the others were up, they then all sat in the same room together and ate one of the magnificent meals Lebreau and Serah always managed to conjure up out of the food stores. He was rarely included in the conversation, mainly because he sat by himself a bit away from the group, but he was always there, even if he disappeared as soon as the meal was finished to do his own thing.

She took a shower, then forced herself to wait for Serah to get up, but not for her to make anything, instead sticking to fresh fruit and water. When her sister came out of the bedroom at last and stared inquisitively at her, she hesitated and figured Serah deserved an explanation.

"I'm going to look for Caius," she said.

Serah blinked. "Huh?"

"I'm going to look for Caius."

"What, he still hasn't come back?" Serah picked something out of the sink and threw it in the garbage. "Well, why does it matter? He was going to destroy the world, so–"

"What if he tries again?"

"Are you worried?"

"I am."

Serah looked her up and down. "I guess you're dressed right," she said, referring to the long pants and shirt that would not only protect her from the sun, but also from the rough terrain. Lightning remembered encountering burrs that scratched up her legs pretty badly and resolved not to do _that_ again. "What makes you think he's not anywhere close by or something?"

Lightning touched her chest. "His feelings are too faint. He's a good distance away."

Serah frowned. "You seem pretty worried."

"It's _Caius_, Serah."

The other woman nodded slowly. "Take a chocobo."

Lightning nodded. "Don't worry about me. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I try and keep it short. If I can't find him, though, I'll need help. He's been gone almost two days, after all."

"You seem _unusually_ worried."

Lightning picked up on her very faint, knowing tone immediately. "Serah," she warned.

Her sister sighed. "You're right. Shouldn't even suggest it."

"He was an enemy."

"Well, he's not really one anymore, is he?" Serah spoke in a very stern voice and looked her sister right in the eye as she did. "Look, I don't much like him being here, either, but I deal with it because he hasn't caused a whole lot of trouble. You really should, too."

Lightning nodded, then said, "By the way, where's Snow? Doesn't he usually sleep out here?" She hadn't meant to have an accusatory tone, but in a way, she couldn't help it. After all, it _had_ been three years, her sister and Snow still not married, but living in the same house. She didn't like the thought at all.

But Serah didn't bat an eye. "He got up before sunrise to do other things before the workday."

Finishing the fruit and downing the last few drops of water, Lightning bid her sister goodbye before heading out onto the beach, where a chocobo rental shop to the south gave her a bird to ride. She paid for three days, just in case, rode the bird out onto the open beach, closed her eyes, and reached within herself.

_Come on, Caius, where are you_?

The chocobo shifted its weight beneath her as she patiently waited for some sort of indication as to which way she should be going.

Then, like someone had shot a flare in the sky for her to follow, she felt a thread of emotion, extremely faint, winding off to the west – deeper inland, she realized. Spurring her mount, she pointed the bird in the direction of her willful other half and took off. The chocobo had to flap its wings and jump in several places in order to get up the cliffs separating the dunes from the beach, but once on the other side the going was much easier, the bird settling into an easier, quicker, efficient pace.

As the hours passed, the thread grew stronger, pulling her in the direction of Caius. It carried her across the plains, far from the ocean, into the lush wild lands she remembered from her first journey across Pulse. From time to time they had to stop to rest and get some nutrients – since Lightning had neglected to bring anything, she had to settle on whatever she could rip out of the ground or off a tree – and approached a stretch of cliffs and mountains as the sun began to make its way toward the horizon again.

"Whoa, boy," she murmured, and stopped in the shade. The chocobo proceeded to rip up some grass and make very adorable chirping sounds. "What's this?"

Barely visible against the cracked bedrock were several clefts in the cliffs leading into darkness. She hopped off and led the bird up to one of them. The thread was strongest here, pulling her into the cleft. Was this where Caius had gone? She seemed to vaguely remember seeing an image of something like this, similar terrain and all, as she had looked back through time at Serah and Noel's adventures. However, it'd been a valley ringed by cliffs on all sides except one, containing a settlement– oh, of course.

"Clever, impossible man," she muttered. "Alright, boy, we're goin' in. It's not as bad as it looks."

The chocobo ruffled his feathers.

Lightning wound his reigns around her hand and climbed into the cleft. It was just big enough for the chocobo to get in, though he had to hold his head down to do it.

After a few minutes of cramped walking, they squeezed out into a broad, grassy valley that stretched on toward the horizon. Tall, slender things with panels sticking out of them were scattered all over the plain. To her left, a small herd of fluffy white sheep milled about, ripping up great mouthfuls of grass. To her right and further on, a gap in the rock gave her a glimpse of buildings, most of them built up high atop a rocky bluff.

She led the chocobo to this opening in the rock and peered in. Beyond, the opening curved around out of sight. She could hear the sounds of the settlement bustling, including the chirping of chocobos and the mewing of sheep. Once in a while, she saw someone walk around the bend, but none of them glanced her direction except for one, dressed in a practical hunter's outfit (if the fangs decorating it were any indication), who looked briefly alarmed before bolting back around the corner, shouting something.

Lightning groaned. "Sorry, boy," she said, patting the chocobo's neck. "Think this'll be a problem."

The chocobo, unconcerned, clucked and shook himself.

When nothing seemed to be happening, she grew confused, staring at the place where the man had disappeared. At last, she sat down on a boulder and dropped her chin in her hand to wait. The chocobo yawned before scratching the ground and ripping up grass.

"Lightning?"

That familiar voice set her on edge for a second. Standing, she looked at the settlement, and sure enough, there he was, walking toward her. Upon seeing him, she suddenly relaxed, _almost_ cracking a relieved smile, but then she saw the stiffness in his gait and the severity in his eyes and became concerned again. He slowed his approach as he got closer; the chocobo warbled and cocked its head to look at him curiously.

"Lightning," he said again. "You found me."

She touched her chest. "This led me straight to you."

There was a soft breeze blowing across the plain, warm and humid. It stirred his hair around his shoulders, the sheen changing from a bluish tint to a deep violet depending on how the light hit it. Though he squinted a little in the sun, she could still clearly see his eyes and how they fixed on hers. The intensity in them intrigued her – what was going through his mind?

"Then," he murmured, "the better question is, why?"

Lightning started to answer, getting so far as to open her mouth, but then she hesitated and closed it again. If she said she was worried about him, she'd have to explain she was worried he would go off and break his promise to her. If she said anything else, she'd be lying. While she cared what he was up to, she didn't necessarily care about _him_, although to say she _didn't_ care would be a lie, too.

Her confused emotions started scratching wildly at each other like a couple of toms. "I was worried you might try to break your promise and run off," she said, and rubbed the fingers of one hand together at her hip. It was the truth, at least.

"I promised to leave the timeline alone. I intend to keep it." Both hands came to his hips. "I will not try to destroy it ever again. However, I _intend_ to stay here. I was doing no good back in your hometown and I may as well have not even existed. After we had our talk, I simply turned and started out on foot until I came here."

Lightning stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"No one wanted me around, and I certainly wasn't… happy," he growled. "So I left."

She frowned a little. It _had_ been her fault, after all. "Life isn't always perfect, but you still shouldn't have left."

"I made my choice," he said, turning away, "now make yours."

As he started to walk off again, Lightning mulled this over for about half a second. It sounded familiar, reminding her of her early days – searching for something, _anything_, _any_ purpose at all in life, trying to fill the void of general unhappiness she'd felt since her mother died. Back then, her solution to problems was to push them away or fight them off with no in-betweens.

"Face it, Ballad," she snapped, "_you ran away_."

Caius faltered, then stopped altogether. He didn't face her, but he didn't need to: his body language told her all she needed to know. "I–"

"You ran away."

He whirled on her. "So what if I did?" he snapped. "I was not wanted!"

"Maybe I just don't get it," she said, "because I've always been just fine with being alone."

"So am I," he growled, "but that does not mean I _never_ want company or never want my existence acknowledged. Do you know what it's like to feel completely alone in a crowded room, or witness life unfolding around you with no invitation to take part in it?"

Suddenly, she understood. "This is about the wedding, isn't it?"

The way his expression cracked, _just_ barely, answered that question. It was a change too subtle for anyone other than a person who knew him to notice. On any other person, it would look like their expression had simply fallen into something that threatened to wrench her heart. He looked at her for a moment longer before casting his gaze at the ground instead. Guilt flooded her for a moment.

"Really, what's going on?"

He stared at the ground for another second or two, then up at her again. "You don't understand." When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous, making every hair stand on end. "I may look young, but I am not. These events mean very little to me anymore. They are landmarks on a long path into infinity, nothing more, and each day passes one after the other with very little to set each one apart."

Lightning thought this over. "No, I get it," she murmured. "I do.

"Look at me," he said, half-chuckling in apparent irony, gesturing at himself. "When I say it, it sounds much pettier than I intended it to."

"It's not petty," she told him. "My _sister_ is getting married to the man she loves."

He hesitated. "I understand that."

"Don't think you do. You think _I_ would go to the ends of the earth for her?" She scoffed. "Snow would rip up the _universe_ if she didn't like how the stars were arranged. That man loves her, would die for her, do _anything_ to make her happy and keep her safe. I used to think such romanticism was just a bunch of stupid words, but they fit him perfectly."

Caius looked carefully at her. "You sound as though you admire him."

"I do. He's crazy about her."

The man hesitated again and looked into the wind and up at the wide blue sky. She followed is gaze, but he seemed content to bask in the blueness of it all. "I _can_ stay here," he said. "If it would make us both happy to go our separate ways, we can. It wouldn't need to be permanent."

"No." Lightning shook her head. "I made you a promise."

"I will not hold you to it."

"I don't care. You think you stuffed that Heart into me and made me promise to keep you company just so you can run off and leave us? Points for trying, but you fail. Horribly. You're not leaving and that's final. It'd be selfish of you to stay, anyway." Hesitating, she felt around for the right words. Was she beginning to soften up? "Look, why don't– why don't you come back with me?"

He didn't look at her. "I'm not sure it's the right thing."

"Caius," she said. She kept her voice calm while softening it at the same time, reaching out for him with one hand – a hand that trembled a little before she steadied it. At the same time, she walked forward until her hand fell to his upper arm. "We'll go back and figure it out together. I won't leave you out of anything and I won't abandon you."

Now he looked at her, eyeing her outstretched hand. "Lightning," he began.

"Call me 'Light'."

"What?"

"Light. It's what my closest friends call me to my face."

The hostility faded from his eyes, but he still looked stern. "Light," he said, and sighed. "You go on. If you need me, you can come back. But I believe it best that I remain here." He punctuated that remark by turning away; Lightning stared after him, feeling a sinking feeling in her gut. It was _his_ emotions she still felt, _his_ loneliness that clenched her heart, but _her_ guilt that made her feel sick. As he walked, she first became anxious, then angry. Every step he took only cranked that anger up another notch or two.

"Caius," she snapped, "_no_."

"Go home, Lightning," he said.

A memory surfaced, of her standing in front of Etro's throne with an illusion – or perhaps it hadn't been, she could never be sure – of him standing behind her, telling her those same words, his tone turning to one of insistent anxiety when she refused. It hadn't worked then, but she wondered if it would work now. Like her, Caius was stubborn, _extremely_ stubborn. Possibly more stubborn than _she_ was, and it was that particular personality trait of his that made him so _irritating_ to her. It was sometimes like looking into a mirror and seeing her old self staring back, reminding her of the untouchable warrior she had once been

She ground her heel into the dirt. "You better come back with me, Ballad."

"Or what?" he sneered, half-turning to look at her with his arms folded. "You'll _force_ me to go back? Best of luck to you, of course, but you will certainly fail if you try anything of the sort."

Lightning bit her lip a second. "Caius."

He only walked on.

"Please."

"And now you plead." This he tossed over his shoulder as he walked. "I never thought I would see the day. Enjoy your life, Light, but it is one I do not belong in." And then, just like that, he vanished, and Lightning stood beside the chocobo, but otherwise alone.

She seethed, clenched fist resting over her heart. His emotions were a tangled mess, but lest she risk being seen as a hypocrite, she didn't try to search them too deeply, only feeling defeated. She kicked a weed at her feet. What could she do _now_?

_It is one I do not belong in_.

His loneliness weighed him down on her soul as if a great weight had been placed on her chest. Since coming back with her, while they had had their share of spats, he'd had otherwise proven to be fairly mellow, causing no trouble and staying quiet whenever it was not necessary for him to speak. Still, she didn't know him that well. What kind of person was he, really? Had he been driven to leave New Bodhum out of sheer loneliness, or was there something else in that tangled mess of emotions and feelings that was his heart?

Then she hesitated, closing her eyes to feel around.

She didn't know Caius's heart. She didn't know what constituted a "good" day for him or what could set him off so badly. Even after all their wars and arguments, he was still a stranger in every way that mattered. Slowly, her anger went away and guilt took its place. Guilt, and sadness. She had promised to be his companion, and one of her first meaningful acts had been to chase him off and back into the wilderness.

Now _she_ wanted to run away, too.

"What am I supposed to do?" she muttered. The chocobo warbled and dropped his head on her shoulder. It was a heavy, fluffy, warm head, at least; she absently scratched it, scowling both at herself and Caius for being… well, himself, it seemed. Was this kind of quiet tantrum unusual? Probably not, if their time in Valhalla had taught her anything. "I should go home. Or maybe– hey!"

The chocobo, hearing the cries of its kin, yanked on the reigns. She dug in and brought it to a sudden halt, where it tried to drag her off anyway. Making a bunch of mewling noises, he tugged on the reigns even harder until she realized he wasn't going to give up.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Let's go."

Letting the bird lead her, Lightning headed into the settlement, trying not to look like she was sulking, glancing at the people around her. Most of them looked alarmed at her presence. Before long, she spotted Caius, and he didn't look the least bit amused. A hostile expression darkened his features; Lightning grunted and looked away from him again. It wasn't something she wasn't used to – Caius was just being himself.

The villagers began to converge on her; concerned, she slowed, then stopped, body tensing, but keeping her stance as neutral as possible.

"I told you to go _home_." Caius pushed his way through the crowd to stand in front of her.

She tightened her grip on the reigns. "I made a promise."

He crowded her, but she stood her ground. As he looked down at her, she met his eyes. "You did, but it matters–"

"I made you a _promise_, Ballad," she said. "For once in my life, I'd like to _keep_ it."

He started to speak, but faltered, saying instead, "I'm not going back."

The people around them looked at each other. Some of them had knowing expressions and backed up, while others just looked confused, and still others looked shocked. Were they surprised they knew each other?

"Yes you are."

Grunting softly, he turned away. "Go home, Lightning."

"No."

He stopped. "What?"

"No. I'm not going home without you. I refuse."

When he faced her, there was a look of surprise on his face. "But–" He faltered, staring at her. Neither of them said anything else, but they didn't have to. He looked frustrated while she glared stubbornly at him, even as the bird beside her tugged slightly on the reins. The remaining villagers turned away.

"You'll change your mind come morning."

Now he folded his arms. "I doubt it."

"I'm staying for the night. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

He gave her a hostile look, but it dissipated after a minute, and he nodded instead. Without another word, he turned away. Lightning led the chocobo to the corral and loosed him there, then turned to see most of the villagers back to their work as they'd been before. As it was getting late, she wasted no time, going off to find someplace to stay, but this was a bit of problem since the somewhat closed society wasn't used to dealing with outsiders. Finally, she found a place atop the bluff where she could stay, although it was in the open air and on the ground, but there was a roof over her head and it wasn't the first time she'd slept on the ground.

She slept hard, tired from riding all day.

* * *

In the darkening evening, as the sun began to list to the horizon, then beneath it, and the light grew soft and warm, the heavens darkening to orange and deep gold, the beach began to clear out, those enjoying the sea and sand now returning to their homes all around the settlement. The waves rolled to and fro on the sandy shore, sparkling in the dying sunset, the wind pleasantly cool.

Serah sat on the steps of the NORA house, ankles crossed, watching the waves.

Behind her, she heard the sound of someone walking out onto the patio, but she didn't have to turn to recognize the rhythm of those steps.

"Worried about your sister, huh?"

She sighed quietly, dropping her chin in one hand, staring out over the water. Snow sat down beside her. The two watched the waves for a few moments in comfortable silence. There was no need to speak. Much as had happened in the past, there was an understanding that speech between them was not always necessary. He didn't even have to sit that close, just perch himself an arm's length away.

"Nothing's gonna happen to her," Snow assured her. "Don't you worry."

"I'm not sure those two will ever get along."

Snow shifted his weight. "Well, think about it. Caius tried to destroy the timeline and Lightning wanted to save it from him. There's bound to be some issues. But I know what I believe." He gently nudged her shoulder with one fist. "I believe that someday, they'll be able to do what we're doing now."

She straightened and glanced at him. "It's different for us. Lightning, she… she's not the… personable type, I guess," she said. "I'm not sure she's ready for normal life. I mean…"

When she trailed off, Snow scooted closer. "Hey. Look at me."

She did. "Hmm?"

"Everyone deserves a second chance. _Everyone_. Your sister hasn't always been the _nicest_ person, but look how far she's come since then. Caius deserves the same chance."

Serah wasn't so sure. "But he–"

"What he did is in the past," he said. "He's been doing pretty well, all things considered. I wouldn't worry a bit."

"But Snow, he–"

"Besides, Lightning'll deal with him. They're pretty similar, really, and I'm sure she'll–"

"_Snow_," she interrupted curtly, "you don't get it. At _all_. Lightning and Caius have fought to the _death_ before, and she has every reason to not like him. Caius doesn't hit me as a man capable of being nice, either. If anything, none of us should turn our backs on him!"

"It'll be fine, Serah." He encircled her shoulders with one arm; his reassuring touch quieted her mind. "We've got _way_ bigger things to worry about. There's a wedding that still needs to take place, and that extra wing on the house we might be adding. Then there's the work of making sure Cocoon doesn't fall. Against all that, whatever issues Caius and Lightning want to bring up with each other, they're not that big a deal."

Serah dropped her head on his shoulder, enjoying his comforting warmth. "I guess you're right. I just hope they stop fighting someday."

"They will," he murmured. "And who knows. With the kind of circumstances they have together, and how they have to be each other's companions for a long time yet, they might become a lot more. That's the beauty of not knowing the future."

"It's more than that." Serah's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. "A lot more."

"More than Lightning? And Caius?"

She tried to answer, but instead, she choked up. Trying to swallow, she ran into a brick wall of emotions. "Snow–" she tried to say, but when she found herself unable to speak even still, she scooted as close to him as she could and buried her face in his shoulder, squeezing her eyes tight shut. It was so much more than whatever pettiness her sister and Caius dredged up. It was so much more than fights and wars and arguments. It was so much more than a long-overdue wedding or the glowering face of Cocoon, the constant reminder of the imperfect world they lived in.

"Serah, tell me what's wrong."

But she couldn't, and he seemed to understand that, for when she didn't answer, instead burrowing even closer to him until there was almost no space between their bodies at all, he didn't press the issue and held her in silence.

* * *

_A guest reviewer pointed out how harsh Lightning was being to Caius - something I had completely overlooked, to be honest. I hadn't meant to paint Lightning as a monster, and I certainly hadn't meant Caius to come off as a saint. Therefore, I did a bit of rewriting to try and soften Lightning's demeanor, and future chapters will benefit from this knowledge as well. I'm very grateful it was pointed out!_

_I realize the plot isn't really moving right now, and again, that's because I didn't have one in mind when I first started out. However, I'm tying the future plot into these chapters, bit by bit, because it does get pretty intense later on. I'm fully expecting this story to breach 40 chapters, possibly 50, because of the scale of what I'm planning - it won't stay this simple for much longer. I appreciate the patience, the constructive criticism (the "CC" I mentioned before), and the reviews for brightening my day a little. I hope you're enjoying everything so far, and there will be much more to come!_


	6. Keep My Promise

_**6 Keep My Promise**_

The following morning – Thursday morning – Serah gawked at the man standing before her as Snow stood beside her with a hand around her waist. She wasn't sure she'd heard right. "Wait," she said, "can you run that by me again?"

Rygdea grinned. "Oh, c'mon, you heard me."

The morning was clear, bright, and beautiful except for a few storm clouds drifting in from the ocean – storm clouds that fit the mood all too well. In the living room of the house stood Serah and a man she'd only gotten to know since Cocoon fell, Rygdea, once a member of PSICOM and now one of the few soldiers who had broken off to go his own way. The two looked at each other, Serah bewildered, Rygdea relaxed yet mildly anxious.

"Say it anyway, please?"

"What's going on?" a third voice chimed in; Serah turned her head to see Lebreau walking in, clad in her security regalia – a sensible uniform that covered much more than her usual wear.

"Rygdea just brought some… interesting news."

"Yeah?" She looked at him. "What?"

"People keep livin' on Cocoon because they love it, right?" he said. "Well, some just straight up don't wanna leave and others… well, thing're gettin' haphazard down here to say the _least_. There's no unifying force, nothin' to keep anarchy at bay, y'see. Now, Serah here's told me that the Academy starts takin' over control of the Pulsian populace in one possible future, but the conditions aren't too clear on how they go 'bout doin' it. Without Eden, without the Sanctum–" He gave a brief, dry, barking sort of laugh. "–people'll start scrabblin' over the littlest things soon enough. People aren't necessarily good, y'see. The past three years, there hadn't been many people here, but now we're gettin' more immigrants." He paused and scratched his neck.

"And…?" Serah coaxed.

He looked at Lebreau, then Snow. "So, we're moving to integrate NORA and its whole deal into the military as a branch here for New Bodhum," he said. "That means Snow might get a command and a real rank. No more monster patrols 'n all. Nah, you'd be the real deal."

Serah nodded slowly as Snow hugged her a little tighter. "So, the current provisional government, you're thinking of expanding it _that_ much? Even including a _military_?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"A unifying force." Serah frowned, thinking this over. "Well, in the future, the Academy was that force, but…"

"I had an objection to that," Snow murmured.

Serah frowned harder. "I guess we can discuss it later. Is there anyone left from the Sanctum?"

"Uh…" Rygdea pondered this. "Me. Few others, I guess. I mean, Bartholomew Estheim, he helped get the Academy up, but I dunno if he can help none…"

"He's pretty smart. Might be able to help set up something basic for now."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You'd have to ask 'em personally."

"Anyone else?"

"Might try askin' Hope, might know somebody from the Academy." He hesitated, then nodded. "Tell ya what, I'll get the Estheims over here for dinner and we'll talk this over."

"I can go for that."

"Yeah. They can tell you lots more than I ever could. And maybe the others… Sazh, y'know, and the others…"

"Yeah, definitely," Lebreau said, smiling. "They're always welcome. Haven't seen 'em in a few months anyway."

Pause. "Hey, Rygdea," Serah murmured, "have you seen my sister?"

"What?" He looked confused. "She missin'?"

"No, not– not _missing_, exactly…"

"She ran off?"

"Uh… well–" Serah screwed up her features. Lightning never just "ran off" without good reason, and she _had_ said she'd be gone a while, but after losing her several times to forces beyond her control, Serah was uneasy with having to be left hanging while Lightning tried to find the man partially responsible for putting everyone in the mess they were in now. "She… she left to find Caius. _He_ ran off. And–"

Rygdea tipped his head. "Don't worry 'bout her."

"But she–"

"Look, I didn't know her real well, personally, but I met her before and heard of her, and she's a tough little thing."

Serah sighed. "I've lost her so many times already…"

"Oh. Yeah, that." He rubbed his neck. "Look, if she don't turn up real soon, you let me know and we'll tear up the continent findin' her, alright? Somethin' tells me she's finer 'n fine, but if you're so worried, the Guardian Corps will look for her. And what's left of PSICOM. Ha–" He chuckled, dryly. "We'll send search parties for a hundred miles if we gotta. Don't you worry."

Serah didn't like her having disappeared after the man she'd warred with for so long. "I'll try," she sighed.

"You better." He cleared his throat and looked at Lebreau. "And _you_."

She looked innocent. "What?"

"Let's go. You got work to do. Someone oughtta pickup the slack while she's gone, y'know."

"Thanks," Lebreau said, and rolled her eyes.

Rygdea moved toward the entrance, then hesitated and looked back at her. "And, uh, you, Serah? Don't worry 'bout your sister. I'm sure she's fine. Besides, this whole thing 'bout the government and whatnot, that's _way_ bigger news. That's life or death, girl, anarchy or order."

Serah swallowed. "I know."

"You bet. See you this evenin'." He left with Lebreau.

Serah paced for a moment before sitting down to rest a bit before leaving for work. What more could she do? The man was right, expanding the provisional government to pave the way for the real thing _was_ a big deal. She didn't waste much time on those thoughts, though, as Snow followed Rygdea and Lebreau and she stood in the kitchen, trying to think of how to spend the rest of her weekend.

* * *

"Hey. You."

The woman grunted and squeezed her eyes tighter shut.

"Hey. Outsider. Got somethin' for ya."

Lightning forced herself to open her eyes. A blaze of sunshine greeted her, forming a halo around a tall silhouette looking down at her. She grunted again, incapable of coherent speech through her grogginess.

"You hungry?"

She groaned this time and dragged herself up to a sitting position. "Sure," she mumbled.

The silhouette – a man, by the sound, a very _tall_ and _big_ man – bent and dropped something on the ground. "Caius left this for ya," he said. "Don't much cater to outsiders, so he figured you could use it to get your strength back up for the day. Or somethin' like that."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she examined the "something" on the ground. It was a bowl filled with what seemed to be long-grain rice and some kind of meat. She picked it up and sniffed it critically. Pleasant surprised washed over her at the warm, delicious smell. Crossing her legs, wincing at her body, stiff from lying on the ground all night, she picked up the paper-wrapped fork-spoon-like object and dug in. The man walked off; Lightning tried to keep from eating too fast.

Halfway through, she slowed, then stopped. Caius had left this for her?

She pondered this for a time before continuing to eat. All around her, the settlement was already bustling, the sun above the horizon now. It was getting hot; for being late winter, Gran Pulse never seemed to cool that much during the day, though their proximity to the planet's equator likely had something to do with it. She finished off her meal and left the bowl with its utensil with one of the other hunters, not sure what else to do with it.

She had to give it one last shot.

She walked back down to the corral, examining the settlement as she went. It seemed to be oddly small, with almost no places to live and very few buildings all around. There weren't that many chocobos, either. This was Caius's society, then – the Farseers, his people, his culture, his land. No wonder he wanted to stay. Did she really have the right to drag him away? But she wanted to be with her sister and Caius was going to fulfill his obligation whether he liked it or not. Something told her it would be the latter once more.

As she leaned on the corral, she heard a commotion behind her and looked.

A small group of hunters was returning from the plains, two of them leading three chocobos into the corral, giving her quick sideways glances as they walked. Caius was there as well, his expression immediately stiffening when he saw her. Instead of ignoring her, however, he came up beside her.

"Are you leaving?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

Lightning gritted her teeth. "You're coming."

"I told you, I will_ not_."

Letting this go for a moment, she looked over her shoulder again. "It's a closed society, right?"

He grunted. "What is?"

"This place. The Farseers." She folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned on them, looking back at him. "This can't go on forever, Caius. Someday it has to end."

"We have lived this long."

"Your people are _dying_," she said. "Look at how small everything is. Look how few people there are. There isn't enough genetic diversity to prevent defects, or societal problems, or– or–" She groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Caius, it can't last. It _can't_. At one time there were thousands, _millions_ of people on Gran Pulse. Now there's just the Farseers left and people from Cocoon. That's it. That's _it_. Don't you see? Since the War of Transgression–"

Caius suddenly turned on her. "Don't talk to _me_ about the War."

Lightning forced herself not to be defensive. "You were there, right? So you know. You must have seen–"

"I do not want to talk about it."

Lightning faced him, one elbow on the corral. "Whatever the case, it doesn't matter. But I'm curious anyway." She sighed. "Look, Caius, I'm not giving up. You're coming with–"

"Follow me." He turned on his heel then, and Lightning, startled, hurried after him.

A minute or two later, they were outside the settlement, standing knee-deep in brownish-green grass that rustled around their legs. Then he startled her again, bringing a weapon – a spear collapsed to the length of his forearm that he unfolded to a length that almost rivaled his height – around on her and assuming a battle stance. Lightning didn't think, only reacting by stumbling back.

"What the–"

"We'll do it this way," he said. "A duel. One-on-one. If you win, I go back with you, but if I win, I stay. There will be no negotiations, no middle ground, and no questions asked. What's done is done. That is my deal and my final offer to you."

Silence fell between them. Lightning stared at Caius with a furrowed brow. Her eyes fell to his spear hovering a foot or two from her chest. The dry morning breeze ruffled her hair. His stirred around his shoulders, beads and various adornments undisturbed by the breeze's weakness. His eyes were quite no-nonsense, businesslike, almost fierce, a familiar expression to her.

Her hand went to the butt of her Blazefire Saber, squeezing it, starting to pull it out.

Then she stopped, and shook her head.

"Look, Caius…" She swallowed, feeling her mouth go a little bit dry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't really see what you've done for us. You _did_ fix the paradoxes and do as I asked, and came here with me because Yeul asked you to, even though you obviously didn't want to. All I'm asking _now_ is that you come back, but… you don't have to, if you don't want to."

Hesitating, she gazed at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes were still fixed on hers, but from his heart came a trickle of emotions, some of them heavy. Under the unfamiliar weight of another person's heart, Lightning struggled to maintain a sense of distance, to keep his feelings from influencing her own, but the longer she gazed into his eyes, the harder it became. They were just so _ancient_, and so… _solemn_.

"You can stay here." Anxiety touched her heart as his eyebrows twitched faintly. "I only wanted to keep my promise and be your companion, even though I'm not _anyone's_ companion and never have been. I wanted to keep a promise I made for once. But if you want nothing to do with me and the others, fine. Stay. It doesn't really matter to me and I don't think it matters to you."

And with that, she turned and, without her usual energy, walked back to get her mount.

The chocobo greeted her with a soft trilling noise before fluffing out its feathers. Lightning opened the corral and snagged the bird's reins, which hadn't been removed the previous night, leading it out. The bird – she decided to just call it "he" for the time being – went with some reluctance.

"Come on," she said, "we're going home."

She walked out of the settlement with her head high. The hunters either went around her or made room for her as she passed, obviously not wanting to be in the way, nor anywhere near her. Once they were back out on the plain, she hesitated, tempted to look over her shoulder. Caius had won this one through sheer stubbornness. The thought was a little difficult to wrap her head around, to understand, but she could accept it. Besides, she knew her way here now, and his thread of emotion would always be a beacon to bring her to him. Whether she liked it or not, their hearts were bound together, their fates and lives intertwined. These people wanted to be left alone, and she could respect that, even if it led to their extinction in the future and she didn't like it at all.

Picking up the pace, she hurried to the exit.

It was a long walk across the plain to get back to the opening in the cliff wall. The sun continued to rise until the air grew hot and the humidity level began to rise again. At the entrance to the tunnel, she sat on a rock to rest her legs and knees again. The chocobo bobbed his head and made soft chirping sounds.

"Shh," she told him. "It's okay."

The chocobo tugged on the reins and twittered a little louder, then snorted and stamped a foot.

"Hey," she said, "what're–"

Then she saw what the bird had been trying to alert her to. Surprised, she stood, aching body forgotten, still holding the reins but momentarily forgetting them. As the figure came closer, his pace brisk and businesslike, she realized that she could know this man for a thousand years and never understand him.

"Caius?" she muttered.

He said nothing until he reached her, slowing to a stop a few feet away. Though he met her eyes, she saw a bit of shame, even shyness, in them. Lightning openly stared at him, not understanding. Hadn't he just demanded he be left with his people? What was going on?

In her heart, something stirred – something that didn't belong to her. It felt like warmth, shyness, anxiety, and–

"Lightning," he said, nodding.

She snapped out of her trance. "Go home to your people. It's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes, but–" Was he having trouble articulating his thoughts?

"But what? Speak up."

Before speaking, he shifted his weight, then turned and raised a hand, brushing his fingertip along the rough rock of the cliff wall. Little bits of vegetation hung out of clefts and between stones; he reached a tiny winter flower, not too big or particularly pretty, and gently tugged on it. The emotions that reached her heart now were a tangle that she couldn't make sense of. As she watched him, she wondered if he, too, could feel her heart.

She tried again. "Caius."

The flower came loose with a faint _snip_, where he pinched it between two fingers. She guessed he was just using it as something to look at instead of having to look at her. "You have made valid points." In the slight cavern formed by the rock, his voice, however soft and hesitant, still sounded strong. "You are right – I _did_ run away. I didn't know what else to do." Now he looked at her. "I will return with you."

Lightning stared at him without comprehension. "What?"

A soft growl escaped him. "I will return with you to New Bodhum. What more do you want?"

It still hadn't sunk in. "You're going back."

His free hand came to his hip and rested there, giving him a distinctly businesslike, and maybe a little superior, aura to his stance. "Yes, Lightning. I am."

If she focused hard enough, could she reach out and literally touch his heart? The way he felt, this close to her, was almost overwhelming, and she wasn't sure she liked it. Rather, it almost felt like he was invading her privacy, that there was nothing she could hide from him anymore, that he was a part of her already and that part would continue to grow as time went on.

Yet she had known this would happen. He'd warned her, and she had no excuse.

"Alright," she said. "If you're going back, you come back with me. No excuses." Tugging gently on the reins, she turned away, trying to shut him out a little. Caius's emotions were numerous and strong, although they smoldered instead of roared, but that didn't make them any less powerful than they were. "Come on."

Through the tunnel they went and back out into the sunshine. Lightning pointed herself back the way she came and looked at Caius, wanting to say something, but he didn't even look at her. She sensed him withdraw into himself and figured it was probably for the best, turning away again.

Neither of them spoke the entire way back. Lightning decided to ride the chocobo until it became too hot, at which point she walked the rest of the way.

They reached the settlement toward the evening and went into the NORA house without a word to each other.

* * *

Snow could be cheerful even when it wasn't in his best interests to be. Even if the visit wasn't entirely personal, it was still something good and wonderful, to him. For him, it had been a full year since he had seen any of them, and before that their visits had been sporadic at best. Two years hadn't given a lot of time for everyone to settle in. New Bodhum had taken most of those two years to build, and new buildings were being added all the time. People still came down from Cocoon. Scouts went into the wilderness to find other places to build. There was plenty of room; it was the terrain that wasn't always friendly

For now, he willingly pushed all of that aside. In the living room, taking up every chair, stool, and spot on the couch, was a familiar face: Rygdea, of course; Bartholomew Estheim; his son Hope, now seventeen as well as tall, spindly, and fighting with his still-growing voice; Sazh Katzroy, who walked with a spring in his step, enjoying the world's wonderfully clear and natural air; his son Dajh, now nine years old and starting to get lanky like his father; men from the Guardian Corps making up the recently-christened Blitz Squadron; and a PSICOM captain named Jules, whom Snow knew from the early days of New Bodhum.

Snow was most interested in seeing Sazh and Dajh, to be honest. According to reports, Sazh had disappeared with his boy a short time after Cocoon's fall during a routine flight. Now he had reappeared, though Dajh had somehow aged during their time away, even though Snow knew they had been caught in a paradox. Had Caius fixed the paradox that had taken them, too, and therefore restored the aging process? Having not had a chance to ask, he had to be content with not knowing for now. Others had questioned Sazh, but the man had dodged them, apparently not wanting to talk about his experiences outside time.

Lebreau had gotten Maqui and Yuj busy, helping clean up the dishes piled in the sink while also finishing up a quick and simple meal. Gadot had initially tried to look busy elsewhere, but even he'd gotten caught up in the mayhem and been set to work scrubbing coffee stains off the countertops before drying the dishes, since Yuj didn't seem to know that _every_ drop of water had to be cleaned off or else hard water stains would form. The "kitchen dance" had begun, everyone getting into a rhythm that mysteriously never ended in collisions.

Snow watched them a second before saying, "Alright, everyone here?"

The chatter continued; he blinked and whistled sharply.

Everyone immediately shut up before exchanging sheepish grins. Sazh smiled knowingly; Snow had a reputation for being… well, loud.

"Alright, good, now, everyone shut up for five seconds," Snow said good-naturedly. Everyone mumbled their agreement before recognizing the irony and laughing quietly. The big blond grinned before patting his hands in the air and telling everyone to "settle down" once again. "Okay, here we go. Order of the day is… uh, we're trying to figure out something about the government. Give me some background."

Bartholomew obliged, standing to become the center of attention. "From what I've been told, in the future, the Academy becomes the _de facto_ world government," he said. "This troubles me. The Sanctum was untouchable by the people, and though Cocoon was very nearly paradise, we were always at the whim of the fal'Cie. It was both theocratic and autocratic, and none of us had any say. I can't say that men, with their free will, would be any better than fal'Cie in the long run."

"What's the alternative, then?" Snow said.

"There was a theoretical form of government discussed in books," Bartholomew continued. "It was called 'democracy' or, alternatively, 'republic'. It would allow the people to manage this government, who are partially entrusted with handling things such as commerce and economics, but they are not allowed to directly control us. This is where the system of 'voting' comes into play."

A soft murmur rose around the group. "Voting?" Jules said, almost sounding as if he were in awe. "As in, casting a vote to pick who's in power?"

"Exactly."

The murmur became more excited. "We wouldn't have a repeat of the Sanctum," someone said.

"It's not infallible," Bartholomew was quick to say. "Men are not infallible. No system of government is perfect by any means. This type of government, however, would lend us more liberty in our day-to-day lives as well as the ability to control who governs us – a luxury we didn't have with the Sanctum," he added. "Like any government, it will be subject to corruption, but it _can_ work."

"Democratically-elected leaders are more likely to have our interest in mind because of votes," Hope put it.

"Precisely," Bartholomew agreed.

Snow rubbed his chin. "Makes sense to me. Might be able to keep a war from brewing."

Just then, someone came in the front door; Snow half-turned to see Serah walk in. They smiled at each other; she excused herself and went to the back room.

"War's a problem," Rygdea said. "Push comes to shove, folks won't come down from Cocoon unless the thing cracked its pillar and collapsed real hard. It's dangerous there – things fall from the ceiling all the time. Already had a few chunks of debris kill some folks. They can't stay, but they don't want to leave. A government could probably coax them down, but nobody's real sure 'bout that."

"Eden fell on Bodhum, as we know," Hope said. "Phoenix fell out of the sky and landed in the ocean. Speaking of which, all the water ran to the bottom of the sphere and flooded most of those areas. People are still working on drilling holes in the bottom to drain everything out. Nautilus collapsed hard. Most of the scrap from the Vile Peaks fell free and dropped on other areas. Anyone still on the ceiling when Cocoon fell–"

Snow winced. "That's okay, Hope."

The boy nodded. "More things can fall at literally any second. They can't stay. The sooner they come down to Pulse, the sooner they'll be safe."

"Okay, so the biggest obstacle is figuring out the foundation of this official government," Snow said.

"One thing at a time," Sazh said. He seemed to understand what was going on best, not weighed down by youthful idealism nor dampened by elderly cynicism. His levelheaded wisdom was evident in those simple words, and around him, the crowd quieted a little.

"We can lay the foundation later," Bartholomew said.

"The kinks need to be ironed out," Rygdea said. "We still gotta worry about the elevator and findin' places to live for everyone. Guess we can start talkin' about getting the big stuff together later."

"How _much_ later?" Snow knew this "later" stuff could become a problem. It had already been three years since everyone had relocated to Gran Pulse. During that time, people had more or less been flailing around in the dark, searching for a foothold in the strange land. Now that most everyone was settled comfortably, the idea of holding out "just a little longer" to start thinking about putting together a government was unsettling. Three years had been lost already. Time wasn't on their side. "If we keep going without a government, we'll probably end up forming agrarian societies just like the old Pulsians, and I don't know about you, but I'm not gonna be at the mercy of the fal'Cie, not even here."

"A government can be a mediator between people," Sazh said. "Hierarchies can protect people lower on the ladder, so to speak. It can also help with communication between settlements and making sure society is smooth. We're not agrarian. We're just _not_."

"Some people like big cities," Snow said, nodding. "If they want big cities, they should have them. Besides, none of them have to be completely dependent. Maybe it's not a government so much as a 'federation' – something to kind of keep an eye on things, mediate disputes, things like that, but otherwise settlements and cities can function with their own governments."

"A federation," Hope murmured. "That makes sense, too. Still, it should be a model for other governments."

"Won't get a 'no' from me," Rygdea said.

Snow nodded. "Why don't we take a break and get some lunch in us? Think it'll be up to the Academy and the folks running it to get things off the ground, but we can always come in later to help. I'm not worried at all. Things will be just fine, I know it."

As the group broke up, Serah, who'd been standing off to the side, came up to him. "Hey, you," she said, smiling.

He hugged her. "This is huge."

"Yeah." The woman looked around at all the people. "Do you realize what's going on here, Snow? We're building our own future. More than time travel or paradoxes ever could, _we_ are building our own future. This might be what we need to keep things going. I'm…" She paused, then grinned. "I'm excited!"

"Me too," he said, grinning as well. "This should be interesting."

He saw her gaze dart past his shoulder. "Lightning!"

Snow turned to follow her gaze and, sure enough, there was his someday-sister-in-law coming through the front door. Her clothing was dusty and she looked tired, but she had accomplished her goal: Caius walked a step behind her, looking around at all the people.

"Serah," Lightning said, giving her a quick hug.

"You found Caius," Serah said, pointing out the slightly bewildered-looking man.

Lightning nodded. "He was pretty far away, but, yeah, I did." She blinked at the people around the room. "What's with this?"

"We're having a meeting discussing the future of government."

She looked confused. "What?"

Snow cleared his throat and stepped forward. "First of all, hi," he said, and she made a face at him. "Second, we were talking about what to do about everyone living here from Cocoon. You see, we had government, the Sanctum, but it was completely autocratic. People didn't have any control over it. As the population gets bigger, we're going to need something to keep some kind of order."

Lightning said, "Go on."

"We haven't gotten to talking about the government's structure yet, but we think it'll be democratic – meaning it gets a voting process so people aren't at the mercy of, well, other people. In theory, we won't get a repeat of the Sanctum and we won't have to deal with an autocratic Academy."

Lightning looked at the people again. "Makes sense. Alright. I'm all up for helping out."

Snow lifted both eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Sure. I'll help."

Caius stepped forward. "As will I," he said. When Snow looked at him, eyebrows going even further up, he gave a wry half-smile. "I have hundreds of years of knowledge behind me. I can help, I'm certain. Besides, if I am going to live here, I may as well help out in… societal… affairs."

Snow nodded. "You bet."

Caius nodded, then looked at Lightning. "I don't know if I can ever make my mistakes up to you," he said, "but there will be a future wherein I helped make it safe."

"We'll shape our future," Snow said, thinking of those words as spoken by Cid Raines on the eve of Cocoon's fall.

Caius looked at him. "Yes. We will."

Lightning shifted her weight as Hope came walking back with a plate of food. "Excuse me," she said, and walked over to him, proceeding to stand at his side. Too busy trying to stab a chunk of food made slippery by gravy, he failed to notice the pink-haired woman beside him until she cleared her throat.

He looked up. "Oh, excuse–" Pause. "Light?"

She smirked. "It's me, kiddo."

Hope didn't seem to know what to do, awkwardly holding his plate in one hand while the other hovered just above it, clutching a fork. Then the feedback loop ended and he suddenly tried to figure out where to put the plate, first deciding to drop it on the coffee table, then hanging on to it, then giving up, setting it on the table, and turning to face her properly, looking completely shocked.

"You're alive!" he cried.

She placed both hands on her hips. "You ever doubt?"

Snow noticed he was still holding his fork, finding this very amusing as Hope only realized it when Lightning gave him a quick hug and the utensil didn't allow him to return it properly. "Kind of, yeah," he said awkwardly, waving the fork around while Snow tried not to laugh too loud. "It's– it's good to see you, Light." With his empty hand, he returned the hug before she stepped back, letting go and tipping her chin up.

"Growth spurt?" she said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Uh–" He looked down at himself. "Sort of. That's right, I was really–" His voice cracked; he cleared his throat and swallowed. "That… for some reason, that keeps happening to me…"

She grinned. "Don't worry about it."

Hope smiled at her, then looked past her. Snow realized his gaze was now on Caius. "And who's this?"

"This?" Lightning turned. "Oh, that? That's Caius Ballad."

Hope looked at her. "You got involved?"

Snow barely hid his laughter; it came out as uncontrollable snickering. Caius stood there looking a little embarrassed – and befuddled – while Lightning blushed faintly. Hope also looked embarrassed, but recovered quickly.

"No, no!" Lightning insisted. "No, he's a– a –" Pause. "Caius, what are we?"

He stared at her. "You tell me."

"Oh, come on," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Help me out."

Again, he stared at her. Snow snickered again. Either the man was upset or he was just being uncooperative to annoy her. If it was the latter, Snow was grateful – if someone else was here to annoy the woman, that was fine with him.

Finally, Caius sighed. "I suppose I am your… business acquaintance."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Okay. Guess that works."

Hope looked between them, but seemed to accept this explanation. As everyone started to sit down again, Snow called out, "Hey, look who's back!"

Everyone suddenly noticed Lightning. Blitz Squadron sprang up and hounded her, and while she looked somewhat apprehensive, she still greeted them, eventually telling them to go sit down and give her a break. They obeyed without a fuss. Snow walked up beside her, wanting to see what the others would say. Rygdea just greeted her with a smile, telling her he was glad to have known her in the early days.

Sazh, however, was enthusiastic and gave her a surprise embrace. Lightning, who wasn't usually fond of this sort of contact, didn't mind at all, returning it. "Well, what do you know," he said, and stepped back, smiling with his hands on her shoulders. "Man, I thought we'd never see you again. You've changed, I see. Well, doesn't really matter, now. What matters is you're back with us, and–" Here, he looked at Caius, who stood silently beside her looking out of place. "Huh. I know him. You mentioned him in my dream."

"Yeah," she said, nodding to him. "Caius Ballad. He _was_ the one working to destroy the timeline."

"I didn't forget." Sazh lifted both eyebrows. "So, uh, what's he doing here?"

"We came to an agreement: he fixes the paradoxes, I agree to be his immortal companion, and he never touches the timeline again."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. _Immortal companion_?" Sazh released her. "What'd I miss, now?"

"He had the Heart of Chaos, which grants him immortality. To stop him from going through with his plan, I agreed to be his companion. Going into detail would take a long time." Again, she looked at him, and Snow saw him gaze back at her. "He's responsible for getting you back here."

"And why your son has regained his lost years," Caius said.

Sazh's hand fell to Dajh's shoulder, where he squeezed it gently. "Well, then, thanks," he said. "If you're really not planning on destroying everything, that's good. As for being here with her–" Here, his expression relaxed. "Did you two get involved? That why you're together?"

Caius stared at him while Lightning looked irritated. Snow chuckled.

"We are _not_ together," Lightning insisted. "It's a _business_ arrangement. This relationship is completely professional, and that's not gonna change." As if to punctuate this, she gave Caius a sidelong glare, which he returned with faint embarrassment.

"Alright, then." Sazh didn't look convinced. "Well, nice seein' you, really. Glad you're back."

Finally, everyone stopped fussing with her and went back to sit down. Snow had forgotten she'd been gone for three years from their perspective, and most people had believed she was dead. Seeing them greet her so warmly told him that, in spite of her initially cold demeanor, she _had _changed enough for people to be able to stand her.

"Alright," Bartholomew said, "settle down."

"There should be a name for this group," Jules said. "Why don't we call ourselves the Foundation?"

"I like it," Snow said, "but we need to focus. Let's at least come up with a plan of action. Should we meet here every week to discuss this government, or somewhere else?"

Hope said, "The meeting building is nearly finished. There's a huge atrium where we can meet."

"Starting next week?"

Bartholomew nodded. "Next week sounds good to me. How about Saturday at noon? None of us should be working or be unable to get away at that time. That gives us this weekend to… well, digest all this. This is huge, what we're talking about. We need to organize everyone we can."

Snow nodded. "Agreed."

"Well, then," Serah said, speaking for the first time in front of everyone, "why don't we finish up this meal and call it a day?"

A murmur of agreement washed over the group before it returned to normal chitchat. Lightning walked into the kitchen; after a second, Caius followed. The members of NORA who had been working there came into the main room with plates of food. They sat with the others and kept up with the conversations somehow. Snow looked to see Lightning and Caius leaning on the counter and talking quietly to one another. They weren't animated, but he could tell from their expressions that, whatever the subject, it was important.

Snow, not all that hungry, picked a spot at the bar to sit down, keeping one eye on the group and one on the man and woman in the kitchen.

Eventually, Lightning waved a hand and picked up a plate of food before coming back to the central room. Caius stayed where he was a moment; Snow took note of his body language and realized he was upset. Lightning, too, seemed a little upset, which made him curious. Maybe Serah's concerns about them never getting along weren't that far off the mark at all.

Snow, however, wasn't all that worried.

Lightning was stubborn. Caius, too, was headstrong. They would clash. That's just how things were. For all the ways they were different, however, something was similar. Having not been here long and being unable to really see how they interacted, he couldn't tell _how_ they were similar. Still, he knew they were. He didn't know how long it would take, but someday, Caius and Lightning would find common ground against the backdrop of this strange and exciting future being built before their eyes.

Snow turned his attention to the group, content to sit until they finished their meals and went their separate ways.

* * *

_I'm trying to slow my updates a little. I was updating every three days there for a bit. It's been six since I updated last this time around, and I'm going to try to make it once a week. Anyway, the idea of this government being democratic and oh-so-idealistic is by no means me saying this way is the best. I'm looking at it from the perspective of people who were oppressed, coddled, and had no control over their lives. Democracy seems like a great alternative at the moment as it gives them some measure of control, which they've never had, but it's definitely not all sugar and rainbows, as Sazh would say._

_Anyway, I appreciate the constructive criticism I've been receiving (seriously, I do, I __**really**__ do) and all your favorites and follows. Enjoy!_


	7. The Changing Seasons

_**7 The Changing Seasons**_

The next morning, an hour or so before sunrise, Snow got up before everyone else, having slept on the couch like he usually did. Gadot slept in the only other place he could, an old couch in the garage, and Maqui and Yuj, having been kicked out of what was now Lightning's bedroom, slept in the garage as well on cots. Lebreau had moved out with her new pay into a little house on the other side of the cliff in the dunes.

He came out to the front lobby to find it empty and the front door still locked closed. Yawning, he unlocked it and slid it open, letting in the dim morning sunshine that hadn't yet broken the horizon. The storm clouds from several days ago had dissipated, but across the delta, behind the mountains, he saw more storm clouds, big and dark gray, frowning at him. The sun lit their bellies, but the sheen told him it was heavy rain. Even this far from the ocean, the sea regularly sent its wrath.

Was it Friday? He was still getting used to the idea of living normally again. After running up and down the timeline and encountering so many strange critters, fighting in the Coliseum, and trying to save the world, settling down was difficult. The contentment he felt was a façade, sometimes, a mask he put on, mostly for Serah.

Yes, it was Friday. Wasn't it?

Looking for something to do in the interim between waking and heading for work, Snow finally settled on sitting at the bar and leaning back on it to watch the sunrise. "Blessed" was the only word he could think of to describe being able to live in this place, a fortress-like location with the cliffs on one side and the water on the other. No, there was nowhere he would rather be.

He saw someone coming up the front steps and recognized the gait. "Hey, Caius," he said, "you're up early."

The other man looked a bit groggy. "I had some trouble sleeping."

"Not a problem." Snow yawned again. "Sit."

Caius did. "Yourself?"

"I slept pretty–" Once more, he yawned, speaking through it this time. "'Scuse me. Pretty well all things considered, like I've been for… I guess a while or so. Somethin' like that."

"How did you leave the Coliseum?"

It took a moment for Snow's extremely groggy brain to process this query and longer to come up with an answer. "I had help from Lightning," he said. "There was chaos keeping me there, so when she came for me, she got it to let go long enough for me to slip away. It hasn't come for me since. I guess it's trapped there and can't get to me."

Caius said nothing for a while, seemingly examining the countertop as if it were fascinating.

"What's on your mind, big guy?"

Caius looked up. "Hmm?"

"What's up?"

"Ah." He examined the countertop again. "Lightning."

"_She's_ on your mind, huh?" Snow found this interesting. "I wouldn't get any ideas, she's stubbornly independent. Try to latch on and she'll kick you right off." He thought about how many times she'd picked on him and managed to chuckle quietly at it – something he never thought he would do.

"It's nothing like that," the other man insisted. "She _is_ a beautiful woman, but I hold no romantic interest in her."

"Probably best."

"Indeed. No, I am trying… I am trying to decide how to make everything I have done or tried to do up to her."

Pause. "_Up_ to her?"

"I tried to destroy her home, the timeline, kill Etro, kill her sister, kill _her_–" He frowned.

Snow waited to see if he would go on, but when he didn't, Snow walked up beside him and leaned on the countertop with his arms folded. "Look, Caius," he said, "I know. About everything, including that you tried to kill Serah and all. You think I'm not uneasy around you? It's been a while since you got here and I still don't know if I can turn my back on you."

Caius looked him right in the eye. The expression on his features was difficult to read. "I cannot say I blame you. To be honest, I am not entirely sure if I can trust _myself_."

Snow didn't like the sound of that at all. "You really want to make it up to all of us? I mean, _really_?"

Snow noted the brief hesitation before Caius said, "I do."

"You've gotta prove it."

"I haven't the faintest thought as to how to accomplish that."

"Don't convince _me_, man. I'm not the one you need to worry about. Lightning's the one hauling around half your heart and having to put up with you and your nonsense. We got big things goin' on, you hear? A government needs to get set up and the crystal pillar needs to be supported. Convince _her_."

Caius looked serious. "I shall."

"Again, not me."

"And why not?"

"Because I'm an optimist. I can believe you'll succeed someday. But Lightning, she's a realist. If you want her to accept you, you gotta work at it. In any case," he said, straightening, "now's not a good time. We've got work and a long day ahead. There's a monster infestation on the dunes that needs to be cleared out. Could take a while and she'll be wore out. Plus, we've a wedding to plan."

"Ah, yes," Caius said, suddenly looking as though a weight had been lifted away, "when will that be?"

"We're thinkin' next weekend after the meeting."

He stood. "I offer my congratulations."

"Yeah, thanks."

The two men looked at each other for a moment; Snow thought Caius wanted to say something, but ultimately he just nodded and turned away. The blond rubbed his chin. "Caius?"

"Yes?"

"You wanna be a part of it. That's it, right?"

Pause. "Some."

"Is that why you disappeared?"

The dark warrior gazed calmly back at him without responding.

"Okay then. I don't want to upset Light or my bride-to-be, but it's perfectly okay by me if you come."

"I shall consider it."

Again, Snow rubbed his chin. There was a weight to Caius's words he couldn't name, but fussing about it would not tell him what it was. Turning away, he proceeded into the kitchen for breakfast. Caius stayed behind.

Snow noticed this. "Don't you eat?"

"The heavily processed food of Cocoon natives?" The other man chuckled softly. "I'll pass."

"That's right." Snow half-smiled and switched on the tap. The water here came from underground sources and was minimally processed, so it still had the tangy taste of minerals once it reached the spigot. "Your people live off the land, hunting and fishing and whatnot. Something like this wouldn't be too appetizing, huh." He held up a shrink-wrapped package of some sort of doughy foodstuff and made a face.

"No, but _this_–" Caius moved into the kitchen and plucked a plump reddish fruit with little blue spines off the top of a glass bowl full of fruit. "–_is_ appetizing." Biting the skin, he peeled it back, revealing white flesh with little black seeds. In the center, after he took a few bites, was a purple pit. "Not as sweet as faeryl-fruit, with more nutrients."

Snow cocked his head. "What _is_ it?"

"My people referred to as a Fruit of Fenrir, after the fal'Cie that occasionally eclipses the sun."

Snow thought about the paradox in an alternate timeline. "That's what it looks like?"

"And it is quite worth the trouble of finding it."

Snow picked one off the pile and examined it. "Smells weird."

"The minerals in the skin oxidize when exposed to the air, which gives the fruit its unique properties."

Pause. "For real?"

"Strange, yes, but nontoxic. You can eat the skin; it's merely a bit tough." To demonstrate, he managed to tear off a piece with his teeth, although it took a minute of chewing to get it pulpy enough to swallow. "That flavor is from the minerals."

Snow tried the skin and decided it wasn't for him. "No, thanks."

Caius smirked. "When your stomach is empty and the prey animals go quiet, you learn to eat whatever you can."

"Yuck."

As the sun began to rise, Snow and Caius finished off their respective fruits and washed it down with hard water, oddly sweet from the minerals underground. Serah came stumbling into the room a bit later, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked between the two men and yawned.

"It's seven."

She perked a little. "Already? I can't believe it's Friday…"

Snow smiled, then walked over to her side and rubbed a fingertip on the corner of her mouth. "Got some toothpaste here."

"I do? Oh–" Making a sour face, she rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth. "Sorry."

"It's fine, don't be so fussy."

"How about having the wedding this weekend?"

Snow caught Caius's look of surprise. "Everything's ready this soon?" the blond mumbled.

"Yeah. I've got my dress fitted. We're not doing anything fancy, remember? Just a get-together with a bunch of our friends and family. Lightning will be my maid of honor. Did you decide on a best man? Maybe Sazh would be good for that, or something. Then we could–"

"Uh, Serah," Snow said, silencing her by gently taking her wrists, "that's good and all, but we'd all like a restful weekend. Besides, I thought we agreed on next weekend, after that first meeting."

She frowned slightly. "But it's ready _now_."

"Just a bit longer."

"We've already waited three _years_!" she snapped. "_You_ wanted Lightning's blessing before we did anything. Now she's back, and you're not ready? Are you _kidding_ me? 'Just a bit longer'? Forget it! Three years and some-odd time-traveling centuries is _enough_!"

Snow pulled her close. "Serah, it's okay. Nothing'll happen between then and now."

"But–"

He shushed her before she could _really_ blow up. "It's okay, really. Calm down. Everything will be fine. There's just a bit of a haul in front of us and work will get a little busier, okay? Just relax."

"Snow, I'm _tired_ of waiting."

He shifted his weight. "I know, but we've gotta take things one step at a time. Believe me, I want to get married too, but other things need to be taken care of first."

She _huffed_ and pried herself out of his grip, turning away. As she walked into the kitchen to find breakfast, her sister joined them, looking much more awake than anyone else. One look between Snow and Serah apparently told her all she needed to know, so she silently went into the kitchen to find her own breakfast.

Snow noticed the way Caius glanced at his sort-of-sister-in-law and wondered what was up. Instead of speaking, the man returned to the fruit bowl and plucked out an apple.

"Hey, big guy."

Caius gave him a look-who's-talking sort of glance. "Yes?"

"Listen, why don't you join us today for some patrols? They're just volunteer patrols, no pay, but it might help you relax. Things are pretty quiet right now."

Caius bit into the apple, but hesitated, staring thoughtfully into space. A moment later, he bit off a chunk of the fruit and chewed while staring at the wall. In the kitchen, Serah talked, rather animatedly, to her sister, who stood with a hand on her hip and an unconvinced expression on her face.

"Think she's beautiful?"

Caius struggled to swallow before speaking. "Lightning?"

"Duh."

He dug his fingernails into the apple, making it squeak quietly. "What is her real name?"

Snow chuckled. "You'd have to ask her."

"She will never tell me."

Snow half-smiled. "Okay, well, I know it, but I'm not going to tell you. Before I found out, last time I asked, she said to ask Serah, so unless she's plannin' on telling you something that special about her sister, you'll just have to ask Lightning yourself."

"Special? What is so special about her true name?"

"It's… kind of hard to explain, actually, without telling you a lot about her. It's all kind of personal. If you really want to find out, ask her, but she might not tell you."

"I'm more stubborn than that."

"I didn't notice. And you dodged my first question, you know."

Caius stared at him. "It isn't important."

Finally, the sisters stopped talking and slapped together a meal made of processed meat, cheese, and bread that was starting to turn stiff. Naturally, biting into the bread made crumbs explode all over the place. Serah groaned while Lightning stared at the swirling puffs of bread dust.

"Morning, Snow," Lightning said, nodding.

Snow flexed his fingers. "Hey, sis."

"I'm not your sister."

"Okay."

"And you." Now she looked at Caius, who gazed back at her, meeting her eyes. Snow looked between them, trying to read the woman's expression. It wasn't as hostile as before. "Morning."

Caius nodded curtly. "And to you."

The awkward pause that followed was more than a little pregnant. Snow mulled over it, curious, trying to figure out why the two would be gazing expectantly at each other as they were. Caius's gaze seemed heavier while Lightning's was wary, but oddly relaxed. She seemed to want to talk to him.

"Hey, Caius?" Snow piped up. "Meet us at the top of the Winding Way in half an hour. We'll go looking for some trouble, okay?"

Caius looked at him. "Do you not want me to accompany you now?"

Snow glanced between him and Lightning. "It's not necessary."

Lightning cocked an eyebrow. "Sure?"

"Sure."

Serah gulped down the rest of her breakfast, dropped her utensils a little violently into the sink, and wiped her hands before grabbing her stuff and following Snow out the door. "Sorry I snapped at you," she mumbled.

He slung an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. You're 'Meanie Miss Farron', remember?"

She nodded. "Guess so, yeah."

* * *

With no one else in the room, things suddenly became awkward.

This was not something Caius was used to. Oh, certainly, somewhere in the past with the many girls he'd loved and protected, there had been awkward moments. Not every Yeul had acted wise and mature for their age, even if she really had been, and the younger she was, the more trouble she got into. Raising her had alternately been a walk in the park and a chore he never wanted to repeat, then inevitably did. Guardian? Sure, he could do that. Parent? That was the real trick, and he couldn't say he was good at it.

Now, standing ten feet away from a beautiful woman whose thoughts he didn't know and whose feelings toward him he couldn't fathom, "awkward" hardly _began_ to cover it.

He swallowed. "Lightning?"

Blink. "Hmm?"

Trying to say something else was an exercise in futility. There was so much they still had to work out and get over – the time he'd been here already hadn't exactly been painless. Running away, accidentally lighting Lightning's short fuse, being regularly ignored by her, and before that, the war – these things were _his_ fault.

Where did he _begin_?

"I wanted–" Either his tongue was its own entity or he just couldn't think straight enough to speak. This was not a normal occurrence for him. Eloquence? Poeticism? Sure. He could do that any day. For some reason, though, trying to dredge any of that up _now_ was madness. "I want to apologize, for everything," he said at last with a chesty sigh to punctuate it. "For our war, and trying to kill your sister and the people you care for, trying to kill _you_, and all of–"

"I'm not ready to forgive you."

She may as well have just kicked him in the stomach for how abruptly his mood changed. "What?"

"I'm not ready to forgive you."

He fought the urge to be defensive. _Don't mess up now, Ballad_. "Lightning–"

"Don't beg. It makes you look petty. You need to grow up and get with reality. Things aren't simple and they won't ever be. This is real life. There's things to do and lives to live. I plan on keeping you as much out of mine as I can, get it? We're not meant to be any closer than this."

He sensed anxiety from her, telling him she was using her harsh words to cover up her feelings – or, rather, trying to, but he could feel them all the same. "Then why allow such an intimate act to take place as willingly taking half of the Heart? Of _my_ heart?"

Her expression turned strange. "Half your– what?"

"The Heart of Chaos has been mine for so long that it is essentially _me_."

Her hand came to her chest to rest over her half. "But it's me, too."

"More than that. It is _us_."

She looked bothered by this concept. "I know that."

"Then pushing me away will not solve anything. I will be here for a very long time, perhaps forever. I will not run away again, but I will _not_ be subject to your petty attempts at keeping your walls up and your heart safe from harm."

"Those _walls_ are protecting me from _you_," she pointed out.

Irritation bled into him. "Don't act as if I'm still your enemy," he told her, aware that his tone was harsh but not much caring. "We are _here_ now, _not_ in Valhalla any longer. You are with your family and _made_ me promise not to take it from you. What more could you want, warrior?"

She looked away. "You just don't get it."

This just made him feel angrier, though he checked his tone before speaking this time. "Lightning," he said, "I want your _forgiveness_. Yours is the one that matters. I don't care what I have to do or how long I have to wait. No matter what it takes, I shall do _everything_ I can. I gave up everything to come back here with you, even abandoning my people, so that your precious world and family would not be taken away." Folding his arms, he scowled at her. "Do you not understand? I shall do _whatever_ I can to be content here."

"But–" She stopped and looked carefully at him. "You mean that, don't you." It wasn't a question.

He looked her in the eye. "I do."

She took a deep breath. "Then," she murmured, "work as hard as you can. You'll _need_ to."

As she finished speaking, he carefully examined her features. She seemed tired, worn out, and the way her skin was a bit tight around her eyes told him she had something stressful on her mind. At her side, her fingers flexed, unable to sit still, while she shifted her weight often.

"You seem unwell."

She looked defensive. "I'm fine."

"You need more rest. Did you not sleep well last night?"

The fist dangling at her side relaxed. "Not… really," she said, sounding a little surprised.

Caius maintained his stern demeanor, but forced himself not to look or behave quite so angry when he took a step closer to her. In response, she tensed, very nearly going into a battle stance with her hand reaching for the gunblade she had slung from her lower back. Noticing this, he stopped. "This will never work out," he muttered.

She seemed to consider this. "Not necessarily."

"Nothing has changed."

"You chose to come back even after I said you could stay. That's something."

Thinking this over, he had to concede that she had a point. Gaze traveling to her gunblade, he wondered how far he would need to push her before she would lash out physically. She seemed to have a better hold on her temper now, but it was hard to tell. In his heart, he felt uncertainty and curiosity from her. What was she thinking?

"What're you staring at?"

"Nothing important," he replied smoothly. "We should go."

Lightning said nothing more, letting him lead the way out onto the beach. Before turning to go left through the fence and into the hills, Caius paused and shielded his eyes from the still-rising sun, looking out across the water. The air smelled of saltwater and the sand had crushed shells in it, while pools appeared when the tides receded, but they were far enough from the ocean that, except for blank horizon to the right, the area was surrounded by mountains.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He didn't look at her. "There are lands further inward that would overshadow this landscape a thousand times over."

A few steps away, she shifted her weight. "I know. I've seen some of it."

"Is that so?"

"There are some beautiful valleys. I remember enormous flowers that smelled so sweet and waterfalls tumbling into valleys and–" There was a note of wistfulness to her voice when she spoke after a moment's pause. "I'll tell you, though, very little compared to the Gapra Whitewood or the Sunleth Waterscape in its prime."

"If I recall, both of those were artificially shaped and controlled by your fal'Cie."

She didn't reply immediately. "Everything was, there."

He grunted. "I saw some landscapes that would overshadow even those when I ran off from here," he said.

"You're not gonna do that again, are you?"

Looking at her, he said, "No. Of that you can be certain."

They continued to follow the path to the left, taking the left branch near the top to continue higher by way of a ladder that had recently been installed to facilitate easier travel from the beachside to the dunes. He let Lightning go first, looking over his shoulder at the water again. If he squinted, he could see a building halfway across the delta, suspended over the water, shaped like a flattened kidney bean. Further on, toward the mountains, there were other small structures dotting the beachfront. It seemed there were many more Bodhum residents than he had initially believed. Cocoon's citizens had made a comfortable life here.

He followed Lightning up the ladder to the top of the cliff, then down a rocky path to the dunes. These "dunes" were more grassy hills and dirt than actual dunes; it seemed to be the colloquial term for the area. More homes were scattered around the valley. To the left, the cliff came to an abrupt stop. Foothills rose into the sky instead, carpeted with greenery. There were some trees dotting the hillside that were turning different colors, from red to gold to yellow and even purple. Most of the others had barely started turning.

"There's our group," Lightning said, jerking her head toward a group of people in security uniforms and gathered around in the shadow of a rock formation. They chatted quietly amongst themselves until she and Caius drew closer, at which point they stopped talking.

"Just in time," Snow said, nodding and smiling. "Let's go take care of this patrol, alright? "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we go home. Might even get this done by midday – wouldn't that be great? Get a nice nap in on a Friday, go chill on the beach… Oh, by the way, Rygdea pretty much gave us the day off because it's so quiet, so this should be the only thing we do today."

As they walked, Caius noticed the way Lightning moved with purpose, but subconsciously seemed to feel the need to take careful note of wherever she stepped. At one point, she almost walked into a small sinkhole; she caught herself at the last second and stepped over it.

"Lightning–" Caius began.

"I'm alright," she insisted, looking sideways at him. "So, you want to earn my forgiveness and your keep?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"If you keep running with our group and join the military, or whatever you do, and help out around here, that might go a long way toward convincing me that you really want to help make the future stable," she said. "And one more thing, Ballad: get some real clothes on. Hulking around in that armor not only makes you look like you're still an enemy, but it's also kind of impractical."

"Etro gave it to me," he told her. "I have worn it for nearly fourteen hundred years."

"Oh." Pause. "Well, change it."

"Lightning."

"What?"

"Call me by my first name."

She walked in silence for a moment. "Sure… Caius, I can do that. By the way, I know 'Ballad' isn't your real family name, so… what is it?"

"Tell me _your_ real name."

"Not a chance."

"When you tell me your real name, I will tell you mine."

Lightning raised an eyebrow. "Alright, you win this one. Someday, I just might."

They continued walking beneath a sky that turned blue as the sun rose into it. To him, it felt clean and clear, fresh as a rain-washed summer day, and he walked more briskly than usual. Perhaps everything _would_ be alright after all, but it would be a bit of a struggle to get there from here.

At a fork in the patrol paths, the group split up and went in opposite directions. Caius split from Lightning, who didn't look back at him, and followed two men in uniform who seemed serious, if their silence were any indication of their thoughts. This he did not mind, content to wander through the beautiful landscape that surrounded the town and break out into the occasional breathtaking view of the area above the treetops. Inland, he saw white clouds and open sky over the plains, and to the south, he could almost see the blank horizon of the sea.

To the north, Cocoon towered over it all.

Caius hesitated at the peak of a dune to stare at the crystallized planetoid. Even now, it would be so easy to topple it off its pillar and bring the world to an end, converging all the timelines, saving Yeul in the past, present, and future that he could not see anymore. Though she had asked him to be here with his new companion, he could not forget how many losses he had already sustained – and how he was still very much cursed with immortality.

A flash of despair cooled his blood as he followed the patrol again.

* * *

_I noticed that I had been portraying Caius as a saint up until now, with him so easily moving on from how he behaved in the game and all. I saw that he was missing his passionate personality and bit of darkness that had made him so unique. He had too easily forgotten about Yeul and everything else that was wrong in his life. He's very old and shouldn't move on so fast. Meanwhile, I've continued to soften Lightning, although she's still not a hundred percent pleased with his presence. Also, I still have a thing for the Gapra Whitewood and the Sunleth Waterscape from the first game, two of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I've ever seen in any game. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave some constructive criticism if you see something._

_Yes, I'm aware I said "Friday" in this chapter and that doesn't fit with the previous chapter's timeline. I'll fix it later once I'm able to stop confusing myself._


	8. Unification

_**8 Unification**_

The meeting place, at this point, was a nearly-finished building frowning over a small section of New Bodhum, tucked away beside the dunes. Its façade was quite strict, large windows reflecting the morning light and the pale sheen of a moon as it hung in the sky. The atrium where the Foundation met was in the center of the great building, built with materials collected or created from Pulse's many natural resources, with a single table of questionable quality and chairs all around it – folding chairs, lawn chairs, camping chairs, wooden chairs, metal chairs, and stools were what the Foundation sat on this morning.

Rygdea, the more-or-less de facto head of the group, stood at the east end of the table and leaned on it, looking uncomfortable with his position of power. Snow sat at the west end, with Bartholomew and Hope in the middle on the north side and the NORA members on the south side. Sazh and Dajh between Hope and Rygdea. Everyone else consisted of people Lightning didn't know, ranging from young adults to middle-aged men and women looking eager to start the morning.

"Mornin'," Rygdea said, beginning the meeting with a single word. Lightning quietly sat beside Maqui, leaving one open seat beside her. Caius filled it; the faint, warm aura of his body was unnerving to her, but not so much that she couldn't deal with it. "How y'all doin' today?"

A few groggy groans rose from the group; he good-naturedly rolled his eyes.

"Buncha slackers, y'all are. So. I got no agenda – didn't print up anything fancy – but I figured this was our first meeting, so it didn't really matter."

"Cool, I could've slept in after all," Yuj piped up.

The congregation laughed; Rygdea waved a finger threateningly at him. "Well, I'm not expectin' to keep ya here for long. But I just remembered I lied, so…" He straightened. "I mean, I got no _printed_ agenda, but there's an agenda, or rather a… a…" Drawing a blank, he grunted. "Bartholomew, start yappin'."

The congregation chuckled softly; Bartholomew stood. "Thank you for that… introduction, Rygdea."

"I try."

"I see." Bartholomew withdrew a folder from who-knows-where and opened it on the table, pulling out a small pile of papers. He handed it to Hope and said "take one, pass it on"; his son did as he asked and repeated the command to the next person in line. A chair creaked; someone coughed. "I wanted to start by saying that we have approval from the Cocoon Relocation branch of the Academy to start searching for a place where we can have a much larger building. It would be some distance from the pillar, likely across the plains from here. We'll need volunteers just in case we decide to do any out-of-town missions in the future, but I'll get to that in a minute. We're also considering moving the Academy to the city growing at the pillar's base."

Lightning took a sheet and passed it on.

"This paper outlines some basic principles for the government. Now, the Academy would have taken command of Pulse in the future, but if there's some objection to that – which there is," he said, looking around, "we need to focus on consolidation. We can't do much more at this point except start looking at what sorts of offices we want to have."

"A president?" someone said.

"We considered that," Bartholomew responded, "but we decided the balance of power is too much of an issue to be held in the hands of one man. We're looking at more of a unified group of people."

Lightning said, "Preferably an odd number?"

"Exactly," Bartholomew said. "Now, if you look at the second section–" Bartholomew went on a monologue about the structure of the government and who had been chosen for what position, at least temporarily. Through a vote cast by the Foundation, the members would be shuffled around in no more than two months. Finally, apparently picking up on the growing disinterest, Bartholomew returned the meeting to Rygdea.

"There's not much else except some congrats," he said.

"For what?" someone said.

"Well, resident hero Snow Villiers is gettin' married today," Rygdea said.

The congregation applauded as Snow stood up to acknowledge it. Lightning felt herself smiling, mostly in relief, to know it was finally going to happen.

"We'll get a volunteer sheet passed around for scouting," he continued. "It won't be for a while, but this thing won't take long to set up. We can work out logistics later. If you want to get out for a couple days, sign up and we'll run ya ragged. Don't you miss it."

A minute or so later, once the sheet had been passed around (Lightning passed on it, but Caius added his name to the list), the congregation was dismissed and everyone went their separate ways. Hope excused himself from his father and walked over to Lightning.

"When's the wedding?" he asked her.

"Midday," she told him. "Noon sharp. Should be enough time to get yourself together."

Hope tugged at his collar. "Hopefully."

Caius shifted his weight at her side; Lightning looked at him. "You're not wearing that armor, right?" The man had not changed it for normal clothing as she'd asked him to do the previous week. Synthetic webbing and galvanized alien metal still clung to his form, as darkly intimidating as the day she'd first seen him standing before her as an illusion, sneering at her to go home. That memory still made her uneasy around him.

Though, he _had_ mellowed out since then.

"I do not intend to," was his response.

"Well, good," she muttered. "Show up in that one more time and I'll hate you forever."

"Do you not already?"

"Hate" was too strong a word for how she felt toward him. Unpleasant memories and reflexive defensiveness aside, she couldn't honestly say she "hated" him, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing her feelings were so uncertain. "I don't have to answer that."

Caius only gazed calmly back at her, but said nothing. Lightning stared at him. The past week, they had gone on a few patrols together, but he had hardly spoken to her and seemed withdrawn. She wondered why, of course, and if it were permanent or not. What was going through his mind, and what could possibly be wrong? Trying not let it get to her for the moment, she looked away again.

Hope looked uncomfortable – the sort of expression the NORA group got every time Snow and Serah had one of their little spats that didn't involve raised voices.

Lightning dug her fingernails into her palm, trying to think of what to say. So much was going on now that she just didn't have time to worry about saving the world or fighting with Caius. Between the provisional government and her sister getting married, life was becoming more exciting. How could she explain that to Hope, who looked as though he were ready to bolt at the first sign of an argument?

"Caius, let's… not right now," she said. "And you, Hope, don't worry. Everything's fine."

"I know it is," he said, sounding equal parts relieved and more confident. "My father knows what he's doing."

"I'm glad you're doing okay with him."

Hope shifted his weight and frowned slightly. "My father was a better man than I wanted to admit. He tried to help me grow when all I wanted to do was be coddled by my mother. Oh, sure, we have our issues, but I have learned to control my emotions where once they controlled me."

Lightning smiled. "That's good to know."

"You helped beat it out of me," he admitted with a sigh.

"What I did wasn't _all_ right."

"I know. Still, some of what you said and did for my sake was in the right, and I'm thankful for all of it."

All this time, Caius had looked curious, though obviously trying to hide it, and finally Lightning acknowledged his curiosity with a nod.

"It's back when we were running from the Sanctum," she explained. "Hope was fourteen then–"

"And a whining brat."

Both Caius and Lightning blinked at him. "That's… not quite what I'd call it," she murmured.

"My father called me that."

"Oh." Pause. "Well, he was a… troublesome child, and I helped whip him into shape."

"Ah," Caius said knowingly, "the pushy older sister?"

She smiled at him. "Something like that."

As she finished her sentence, Caius looked surprised, but it was so faint that anyone who didn't know him wouldn't even see it. To her, it was glaringly obvious, particularly with it surging into her heart. Carefully filing it away to ask him about later, she turned back to Hope, but the seventeen-going-on-eighteen-year-old boy had turned away toward his father, leaving them behind.

So much for asking later. "What's up with the shock?"

"The–" He stared at her. "What?"

"You looked surprised."

He now looked uncomfortable. "It is nothing."

Lightning twitched an eyebrow but decided not to pursue the matter. If he was going to be stubborn, she didn't have the patience to puzzle him out. "Alright, then." She wanted to ask about his reclusiveness lately, but wasn't sure how to go about doing it. "It's almost nine thirty. We've got time to go back and get things sorted out before the wedding starts. You won't wear that armor, right? I mean it. If you do, I will go right off the–"

"Lightning," he said, sounding exasperated, "try to trust me."

"Get real."

"_Lightning_."

"Fine."

A few minutes later, the congregation broke up and went their separate ways. Snow, Lightning, Caius, the NORA group, and a few others made one large group that returned to New Bodhum together. Arriving with over two hours to spare, they all broke up and disappeared. Serah, who had not gone to the meeting that morning, was nowhere to be seen, and this made Lightning curious.

"Where's my sister?" she asked anyone who was listening.

Snow was. "Busy."

"Where?"

"Lightning, she can't come out until the ceremony actually starts. That's how it is, remember? Now will you please stop being so feisty?" The blond dropped a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She sighed, but felt a little better now. "It'll be okay. Go get ready."

The crowd thinned, leaving Snow, Lightning and Caius; Lightning remained where she was. Caius waited a moment before turning to leave.

"Hey," she demanded, "what're you doing?"

"To prepare."

"Tell me you're switching out the armor."

"Lightning, _enough_ with my armor already. _I shall not wear it_." He half-turned with a hand on his hip. "Satisfied?"

She squinted at him. "Not yet."

He grunted and left the building, stepping out into the blazing sunshine. Lightning followed to stand in the doorway, gazing across the water. Over and over for the past few weeks, storm clouds had gathered in the distance, then proceeded to move a different direction. Now another group of them was forming, but they were far bigger and heavier than any previous ones she'd seen, while the wind blew in her face, cool and moist, but with an electric taste on her tongue. _Thunderstorms_.

After eyeing the weather a moment, she turned away, walking into her little room and closing the door. On her bed was an opaque clothing protector; she unfolded and unzipped it.

Serah had chosen a combination of cool and warm Pulsian colors for the ceremony, consisting of blues, pinks, and yellows with orange or white accents. Lightning's outfit was a simple pink silk dress imported from Cocoon that shimmered in the light. Having not worn a dress in years, it was rather strange slipping it over her head and feeling the softness of the fabric lightly dance around her legs. It was asymmetric in the skirt, one side cinched to reach just above her knee and the other trailing on the ground. Fitted to her curves, it simultaneously made her feel a bit naked and rather elegant.

She frowned in concentration and tugged on the straps, which were an inch in width and crossed in the back, leaving part of her upper back exposed. Because the ceremony was on a beach, Serah had made sure everyone understood there were no shoes allowed (except for the men, due to her belief that barefoot men in nice suits just looked silly), so she stood looking awkwardly down at herself and her rather pale toes.

"Close enough," she muttered, and left the room.

In the bathroom, she washed her face and carefully rearranged her hair so that all of it fell over one shoulder instead of both, using a clasp to keep it in place when it refused to stay. After making sure she looked alright, she went back out to the lobby and sat down to wait on the couch.

Snow was the next person she saw, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He had changed into a white suit with a blue silk tie, all of it perfectly pressed and fitted, silver buttons polished until they practically sparkled. For once, his stubble was neatly trimmed and his hair done in a way that didn't make him look as if he'd stuck his hand in a light socket. After pacing a few moments and tugging on his tie, he noticed Lightning and sat down beside her.

"Hey," he said, "you look good."

She wondered how a simple pink dress could look "good" on her. "Thanks," she said. "You look nervous."

"Oh, I am," he muttered.

"Hey." She touched his forearm. Even the suit's fabric was of high quality, though not as high as some other suits she'd seen in the past. "You're okay. I'm happy for both of you, that you're finally getting this done. I know you'll take care of her and make her happy."

A mischievous glint entered his eye. "You can bet I'll make her happy. Starting tonight."

Lightning groaned. "Too much information, Snow."

"Sorry."

A few more people entered the lobby after a bit, consisting of Yuj, Gadot, and Maqui. Lebreau followed later, but she proceeded to shoo out anyone who didn't live in the household, making sure the crowd stayed outside and didn't start filling up the building. All three wore suits of different colors with different colored ties – a black suit with a light orange tie for Gadot, a charcoal suit with a yellow tie for Maqui, and a white suit with a blue bowtie for Yuj that matched his hair.

Lightning started to cross her legs before remembering the skirt, crossing her ankles instead. "Ready?" she asked.

The group mumbled. "I'm best man," Gadot said. "_No_."

She chuckled. "Best man? And _I'm_ maid of honor?"

Snow nodded. "Pretty much."

"I'm really not cut out to do this fancy wedding stuff…"

Lebreau started to shoo a newcomer out, but a second later, she stepped aside, letting him in with a welcoming, if impatient, wave. Backlit by the reflective sand, he was hard to see at first, but after a bit he moved aside and into the darker interior of the building, staying to Lightning's right and a few feet away. It was Caius, in a black suit with a light purple tie. His headband was gone, replaced by a dark purple one with no tails, hair arranged differently: where once it had shot off almost in all directions, it'd been smoothed down and tamed. His beaded adornments, too, were missing. Black-and-white feathers were secured to his hair in several places that helped accentuate the look.

Pleasantly surprised, Lightning said, "Hey, Caius."

He looked down at her.

"You look good," she said.

He seemed pleased. "And yourself," he told her. "That dress is the perfect choice. It accentuates your appearance well."

Shrugging to hide her embarrassment at his compliment, she stood and looked him over. "That tie isn't secure." She pointed to it; he grunted and gave it a tug. When it slipped a little, he sighed and carefully redid it, securing it better this time. "Have you ever worn one?" she asked.

"No."

"It shows."

There was an hour and a half left before the wedding started; while everyone continued to mill about, Lightning decided to dodge the crowd and go outside onto the beach instead. No one was out there at the moment; she walked over to the shore and stood where the waves could wash over her. The breeze was cool and dry, blowing from a bit to her right and partly into her face, teasing her hair. She tucked it behind one ear.

A familiar presence briefly touched her heart; Lightning half-turned to see her companion walking up to her. "What brings you out here?" she asked.

He stood beside her for a few moments in silence. "Merely thinking."

She studied his ensemble, admiring the skilled tailoring and how perfectly it had been fit to his long frame. Not a bit of it looked out of place. He wore it well. "How long have you been working on this suit… thing?" Not sure how else to word it, she felt embarrassed for a moment.

"Nearly a week."

She noted the emotionless tone of his voice. "Caius, what's been going on lately? You've been real quiet."

He grunted. "Is that not best for this arrangement?"

No matter how much she worked on getting used to his presence, she still wasn't comfortable with it. "We can still try to be friends. If nothing else, we should at least _try_ that. No, we can't be anything more and we never will be, and we shouldn't try to be. That's just–" She folded her arms. "Well, impossible."

"I completely agree."

This gave her a sense of relief. "Good. But you haven't answered my question."

"What does it matter?"

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't, but I still think–"

"If you must know, my past still lies at the door to my heart and the memories of my failures, my triumphs, all I have done and attempted to accomplish because of the girl I have forever left behind are still gouged into my soul as scars that will never heal."

Hearing him speak like that made her stop cold. "Yeul. Her memory… does it still–"

"It is none of your business."

Lightning chewed her lip, trying not to get defensive, but it happened anyway. "None of my _business_? You can't be serious, right? I'm your companion. I _willingly_ took that Heart of Chaos and became immortal so _you_ wouldn't be lonely anymore. Yeul asked to come here with me and stay. Now it's 'none of my business'?" Turning, she stepped in front of him with her hands on her hips. "You're pathetic. This is _my_ life too."

"When I say it isn't any of your business, _I mean it_."

"I don't care. I really don't. You tell me what's wrong, or so help me, I will _abandon you_ and you can live the rest of your miserable existence _completely_ alone!"

Stepping forward, closing the distance until there was only a small gap between them, he leaned down a bit so their faces were only inches apart. Unable to look anywhere but his eyes, she suddenly felt foolish.

"It is none of your business." His tone was low and dangerous – a warning as impossible to ignore as a neon sign, and she almost, _almost_ shrank back. It made her even more defensive, but was a little frightening, too. "This is not a relationship. This is a _business arrangement_. Friendship or no, it makes no difference. What is in my heart is private, and I shall share if I so choose. No different than _you_."

Lightning stared at him, mouth slightly open, feeling guiltier than ever. After a second, he turned away and headed back up the beach.

The echo of his feelings pulsed through her veins like her own blood, a tangled web of emotions dangling just out of reach. Wanting to untangle it all, to find out what he hid within, was too tempting to resist. She reached into herself, into their hearts where they were bound together by a few faint threads, and felt around. There were so many knots there she couldn't undo without his help, so instead she searched for something simple. There – sadness, anger, and hurt, all of it so deep inside him that to go any further would risk his wrath. As it was, she was further in than she'd ever been, so she carefully withdrew.

Something seized her wrist – not so tight that it hurt, but not loose enough for her to easily escape. As her focus returned to the real world, she saw that Caius had grasped her wrist and was now scowling down at her. "Don't be a hypocrite," he growled. "Stay out of my heart. There are some things you should not see."

Lightning yanked her arm back, but he didn't release her. "I just want to know what's wrong with you, and if you won't tell me–"

"My heart is _private_. I don't _care_ if I share it with you." Then he let go, and she rubbed her wrist. "You may _never_ look into it. You may _never_ see its secrets. I cannot prevent our emotions from being felt by each other, but I _can_ keep you out of my heart. _Stay out of it_."

Understanding what he was saying did nothing to make her feel better. "Something's got you riled," she said, trying to sound calm. "I wanna know what it is."

"It is _none_ of your _business_."

"Caius, you're worrying me. And _scaring_ me."

Now he just stared at her, as if shocked that she could be concerned about _him_. "Light–" Then he seemed to change his mind, turning away, the anger fizzled out to leave only… sadness. She couldn't stop it from touching her heart and making her grit her teeth wishing she couldn't feel it. The man's heart was always on fire, emotions flowing off him like solar flares, and they burned when they struck hers.

"Caius, talk to me. We need to talk. We _have_ to talk."

He stopped. "It will change nothing."

"We have to try."

Now he faced her. "We could talk for centuries, Light, and never straighten everything out. I still keep so much from the world, and from you, particularly. I am not alright. I'm _not_. You _must_ learn to accept that. No matter how long I am here, I will _never_ be alright."

Frustrated, she looked away, and he returned to the house with the others. After some amount of time standing in the waves and staring at the water, she returned as well.

Snow had stood up and begun to pace, looking pale beneath his slightly ruddy skin from long days in the Pulsian sun. As he paced, the others became more agitated, several of them beginning to shift their weight and talk even more excitedly. Only then did it hit her that her sister was really getting married, three years later than planned, to a man Lightning had initially hated. Upon realizing this, she felt a shot of adrenaline through her heart, her stomach flip over, and butterflies flapping madly all over inside her body. This was it. Her sister was getting married.

And if she could get over Snow, she could get over Caius.

"Five minutes!" Lebreau shouted.

Snow gave a quiet cry of dismay and began to pace in a circle. Lightning felt lightheaded and had to go over to the kitchen sink to douse her face in cold water, clearing the blush.

"I wish our parents were here," Snow mumbled.

Lightning felt the same. In Cocoon wedding ceremonies, typically overseen by a resident fal'Cie, the parents of both bride and groom would give their blessings to the couple as the final handoff, the deal-sealer that meant both parties were truly beginning lives and families of their own. In their stead, another family member would do it, but Snow had no other family and Lightning was already the maid of honor. It wouldn't seem right to give a blessing if Snow couldn't have one from his family.

"Mom should've seen this," Lightning murmured. She sighed and rubbed her forehead with both hands.

"Two minutes!"

Snow snapped out of his trance and squeaked softly. "Two minutes. Two minutes 'til my life changes."

"Yours, _and_ mine," Lightning reminded him.

Caius looked out of place, standing a bit away from the crowd and looking out the front door. Lightning eyed his familiar silhouette, wishing she knew how to approach him. This _had_ to stop. Their arguments, trying to close each other out, everything they did to one another. They would be together until time ended, whether they liked it or not.

"One minute!"

Wanting to approach him, she instead held back and looked at the floor. This was supposed to be a happy time, but her thoughts were consumed by Caius. The sadness in his eyes and flaring off his heart overwhelmed her, and she couldn't shut it out as easily as she would have liked. Her sister was getting married, and all that seemed to matter was this ancient, angry warrior. Since he had tried to do so much in the past up to this point and spent so many centuries trying to bring the apocalypse, maybe she had to accept that there was a line they could never cross.

* * *

When Lebreau made the final call, Snow was the first to walk away from the group. Caius noted his shaky-kneed gait and trembling shoulders, but the man managed to straighten himself and walk dignified down the steps of the house, only missing a step at the bottom but catching himself before he stumbled. On the sand, everyone who had been invited had assembled in rows, all smiles, waiting silently for the groom to walk past. Lightning followed close behind him to take her place to his right. A man in a formal military uniform stood at the head, no doubt acting as the man of blessing – the one who had been sanctified to officially recognize the marriage – for the ceremony. As Snow approached, he stopped halfway up the rows.

The assembly looked back at the NORA household as Snow's long-overdue bride, in her floor-length gown of multiple colors – yellow, pink, orange, and cream – came down the steps onto the sand, carefully holding the front of her gown off the ground with one hand. She was practically beaming, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks, as she met Snow at the halfway point.

They made the walk the rest of the way together.

Caius stood at the center of the assembly when the two halves converged. He did not want to stand out too much, as his darker palette already did against the lighter tones of the earth around him. As he gazed at the bride and groom as they began their vows, he somewhat grasped what this meant. It was still something he didn't entirely understand. The story of Snow and Serah had begun simply enough, but grown into a journey that was finally coming to an end, where a new one would begin, but he didn't know the whole story. All he knew was that this was the culmination of a promise made between the two of them.

It was enough to make Lightning smile radiantly, reminding of when she had smiled at him earlier that day. It had been a shock, one he'd let slip, one that had momentarily made him forget how to think. Used to her scowls and smirks, to see her _smile_ at him was _beautiful_. He could appreciate beauty, knowing full well that she would never be his and it was a thought not worth entertaining. How could he ever want to be with her? They had been enemies for so long that it was simply impossible. The thought of even _touching_ her was laughable, wary as she was of him even being near her. And talking? What good would that do?

Their hearts were bound, their lives entwined, but there would be no solace for them. They would forever be alone and outlive the world as individuals, not together.

And there were some things, some secrets in his heart, she just couldn't know.

Snow and Serah finished their vows against the sparkling water, lit by the midday sun, and leaned in to seal their words with a kiss.

The congregation applauded the couple as Lightning grinned wider than Caius would have ever believed possible and the noise almost became deafening. After a moment, though he wasn't entirely sure it was his place, he joined in, having always enjoyed the ceremonies he'd partially overseen as a Guardian in the past. As soon as they were able, the congregation rushed forward to congratulate them.

Caius stayed back.

Later, as the congregation broke up again and Snow disappeared, Caius discovered that Lightning was nowhere to be seen. She was not with the main group and he didn't see her outside. When he asked Lebreau if she had seen her, the darkhaired woman told him she'd gone outside alone before returning her attention to the small group of people she chattered excitedly with.

Outside, some of the group that had assembled for the occasion still milled about on the sand, talking and laughing excitedly amongst each other. Caius avoided them, instead looking around for his companion. He finally spotted her with her sister, standing down the beach in a spot where the waves crashed over their feet. While he wanted to speak to her, he could not bring himself to face Serah. Snow treated him kindly enough, if warily as well. Lightning was slowly getting better. But Serah…

Serah, he had hurt. He had tried to kill her. He had nearly destroyed her life. A bit more of a push, and she would died from her visions.

Though still unsure whether he was in the right or wrong, no matter what he said to Lightning, he decided to hold back until one of them walked away. To do this, he went over to stand on the dock stretching out over the water, thinking it was a completely impractical structure, watching the waves lap at the sand behind him.

The two sisters walked toward the house together; he groaned softly. Unless he intercepted them – which he didn't want to do – he wouldn't get a chance to speak to her after all.

So, instead, he closed his eyes, concentrated, and reached out for her heart with his.

The response was immediate and one of surprise, but when he opened his eyes, she had stopped and now looked back at him. Still he reached out; she frowned, but excused herself from Serah and came toward him. She was still in her dress, the skirt flapping about from the breeze; he walked back to the sand.

"What is it?" she asked.

Why had he wanted to see her? To apologize? To… _what_? "I'm not sure," he admitted.

But she had something to say herself. "Tell me," she said, "you wandered across the timeline and broke everything in your path just to save Yeul. That girl became your bane. She stole your _sanity_. Serah was in your way and you wanted Noel to kill you. If it would've achieved your goals… Caius, I need you to be honest: would you have killed her if it'd have gotten you what you wanted?"

Immediately, he drew all his emotions, feelings, thoughts, _everything_ into himself and shut a shell around it. It was hard – there was a thread binding their hearts together, and he couldn't shut her out completely, no matter how he tried. What could he say? Tell her that her beloved sister had come within moments of death many times by his hand, tell her that he had become so blinded by sorrow and rage that he'd been perfectly willing to _murder_ millions of people to get what he wanted? What would she think? What would she say? Could he tell her that, even now, he wanted to destroy the timeline, secretly, shamefully, _deeply_?

"Yes."

Hurt, anger, and sadness reached him; he had to struggle not to let it affect him. "Murdering Cocoon's citizens and killing my sister. That's pretty sick."

Caius maintained a steady stare, gazing into her eyes without flinching. "It was what needed to be done."

"To get what _you_ wanted. You didn't even care what _she_ wanted."

"I did in the end."

"Is this one of your secrets? That you'd gladly kill my sister?"

She would never trust him again, he realized. Now she would forever think that, no matter what he said or did, he would try to kill her family. "No," he murmured. "I do not want to kill your sister. I don't want to take your family away from you, or your home, or your– _our_ future." That's what it had become: the future he now shared with her, a future he would be foolish to deny her at this point.

"Can I trust you, Caius?"

He couldn't look at her. "I'm not sure if I can even trust myself."

When she spoke, her voice was calm, the tone soft, emotions strong but controlled. "Given enough time, I think we can. I'm not sure how it will be done, but it will. Far as I can tell, you're not a monster. You're a man. I'll be with you a very long time, whether we like it or not. We'll talk. We've gotta try."

"That may not–"

"I'm done arguing and fighting. I _mean_ it. You and I have a lot of ground to cover, but we can't even _start_ on that journey unless you're willing to trust me, and that means not keeping everything closed up inside you. Sooner or later, it'll make you crazy." She hesitated, sighing. "Or, actually, crazier." Then she turned away and walked off toward the house.

Caius stared at the sand and the waves washing over it for a very long time. Eventually, he decided that, maybe, she was right, and went back to the house.


	9. Reconciliation

_**9 Reconciliation**_

The days of autumn passed quickly now that Serah and Snow had made their commitment official. The first few days were spent trying to get used to the arrangement as well as the legalities that came with it. The NORA house bounced around into different hands for a while before Snow put his foot down and said the house would belong to him, his sister-in-law, and their little family. Everyone else had to move out, and for good reason: the two hoped to have children, and there needed to be places for them to sleep when they grew older. Lebreau left first, but she had already had her eye on a little beach shack someone had been trying to sell for months, so she picked it up with the agreement she could still run the bar in the Farron household. Yuj and Maqui decided everyone had a point and took the next opportunity to move out, Yuj into an apartment and Maqui into a little shack on the dunes.

The fiasco took two weeks to sort out.

Lightning helped where she could, but this wasn't often. She usually found herself working strange shifts as the fall months faded into chilly winter air and a storm passed shortly after the wedding. The roof leaked; she did her best to help patch it. Caius visited once in a while, but he seemed more distant and almost seemed to be avoiding her altogether. His emotions thrashed against her heart; when she tried to speak to him, he started to answer before someone called him away.

Whenever she reached out to him, what she felt was hard to understand. A thread connected their hearts together, and if she felt along it, she could reach the doorstep of his heart.

What she felt there was confusion. The rest of the web was tangled so tightly that to reach too deeply would alert him to her probing and set him off again. She tried to catch him alone, but he never was, helping prepare the water-facing side of the village for the fierce winter storms that spun off the ocean. Instead of his armor, he wore simpler clothing that still displayed the influence of his people – feathers, beads, and clothing that had not been synthetically created, but handmade, with such brilliant hues that they could never be artificial. Without the imposing metal and webbing, she found it easier to accept his presence.

Slowly, the rest of the village grew used to him, as well, and he stopped being a novelty.

The days turned into weeks, and autumn began to fade. The heat lessened; the humidity grew. The sky grew dark regularly and the wind cut into one's skin. Soon the preparations were finished and Caius disappeared; Lightning reached out to find a thread leading to his village in the mountains again. It frustrated her, but he had promised not to run away, so she knew he wouldn't be gone long.

A few weeks after the wedding, she was told there would be no more monster-hunting jobs. Instead, the security division would be bundled under the canopy of the infant provisional government, meaning that from time to time she and the others could be called away to other places. This included the city at the base of the pillar (a terrible descriptor, as the settlement was actually several miles from it) and places on Cocoon as evacuations continued. As a result, there would be a New Bodhum Security Regiment once again, which meant those in the village would have the opportunity to take on real jobs, and Lightning was among the first to be reinstated with her old rank.

The birth of the permanent government and its military had begun in earnest.

A few days after Caius left, he returned, and it was a Friday afternoon with actual thunderstorms approaching from the ocean once again. These were moving swiftly, but the sun was too bright for her to tell whether there were any lightning strikes going on. She had just returned from a quick foot patrol, and Rygdea had followed her back to the NORA household, not saying much. When she walked in, she saw Caius on the couch.

"Now I remember," Rygdea muttered. "Said I was gonna say somethin', right? Well, now I know – can you do a foot patrol tonight too?"

Lightning looked at him. "Sure. What sort?"

"Up the beach and back. Make sure there's no transients or storm damage. Oh, and that nobody's out there to get caught in the storm. That monster's movin' fast, so, uh, try not to– you know–"

"I got it," she said. "I can do it."

"If it's not all stormy. If it is, you get straight back the minute it gets too close, you got it? Don't care if you're not even out there five minutes. Too dangerous to get stuck out in and I'm not rescuin' you."

She nodded. "Believe me, I _don't_ like lightning."

"And you're named after it?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Go figure, huh?"

Someone came up the front steps behind them and pushed between them. It was Lebreau. "I know I'm not supposed to be here," she said, "but it's Friday, so I'm handlin' the bar. Go whine to somebody else if– oh, hi, Rygdea."

"Evenin', ma'am."

Lebreau stopped and looked at him. "Aren't you the big man on campus?"

"Meanin' what?"

"Government."

"Uh… sort of, ma'am. I guess. I dunno, I'm the brawn, not the brains. Need some muscle, I'll do it. Not to say I'm not smart or nothin'."

"But you're doing _something_," she insisted. "And my name's 'Lebreau'. Not 'ma'am'."

"Yes, ma– Lebreau."

"That's better. Staying for dinner?"

"I… wasn't thinkin' about it, but now that you mention it…" He rubbed his chin. "Folks say you're a good cook and a fine bartender. Guess I can spare a few. Got a storm rollin' in anyway, not much else I can do for now. Sure, I'll stay. Why not?"

Lebreau grinned and led him into the kitchen.

Lightning walked over to Caius, who stood as she approached. They said nothing for a moment; Lightning felt out his emotions and found that he was calm, lacking the frustration and confusion of earlier in the week. His stance was straight-backed and firm-shouldered, but somehow relaxed, and he didn't seem so uptight anymore.

"Where'd you go?"

"To check on my people. I had always planned to return to you."

Lightning noted the use of the words "to you". The man was hard to deal with, but he refused to break his promise, or allow her to break hers. She had to admire that. "Good to know," she said. "Now, when are we going to talk?"

His attitude changed immediately. "It changes nothing."

"Caius, I'm serious. When?"

"Perhaps never."

She chewed her lip and stared at him a moment. Nodding curtly to her, he started to step past, but just as he did, she reached out and seized his forearm. It felt lean but powerful, the muscles tight, the tendons well-defined where they twitched slightly against her palm. He felt warmer than her, though it may simply have been the absorbed heat of the dark fabric.

"We _have_ to talk."

He looked at her. "Try to understand. I want to move on, but–"

When he abruptly stopped, she moved a little to stand in his field of vision. Now he looked at her, dark eyes stern and unreadable, but his heart smoldering just outside hers. She could feel her own, rippling and flowing like the ocean, as if trying to get away from him. That threat – that tiny, insignificant thread – was so strong by itself that she could do nothing to sever it. He had been right, she realized. There was no getting away from this. There was no denying that their lives were bound.

She felt the tendons change position as the muscles of his forearm clenched. "What good will it do?" he said at last.

"Caius," she said softly, "I'm not your enemy."

Some of the severity died. "I know."

Slowly, she released him and backed up a couple of steps, trying to distance herself. His emotions were too strong, even now. How fierce they could be, she knew, and how much pain and trouble they could cause! They had been prepared to topple empires, destroy the timeline, turn the world upside down, murder _millions_ of people, just to save one small girl he had grown so fond of over the past fourteen centuries of his life. How dangerous they could be, and yet, how _fascinating_. Their power amazed her – the heart could be so treacherous.

"Maybe it'll be better if we spend time together. I want to know what's bothering you." Even from over here, she could still feel the coals of his passion. "None of my business or not, it's still something that gets to you easily, and I don't want to be kept in the dark anymore."

His expression didn't change, but his emotions cooled a little. "Some of my secrets would frighten you," he said, almost in a whisper.

Lightning chewed her lip. "I've got my share of secrets I'm not proud of."

"You are very young. I am not."

"You keep reminding me of that. It's really hard for me to forget." Her hand smoothed down her hip, as if searching for something, but she wasn't sure what. "I promised to be your companion. Whatever that means, I'm going to do it. I don't care how hard it is or what I have to do. You are _not_ going to get away again."

He gazed at her – the familiar look that he always used whenever he was trying to get a point across or stare her down. "Is _that_ what this is about?" he murmured.

"Sure, more or less. I'm willing to try."

His brow furrowed again.

"Are you, Caius?"

"Yes. I am."

Relief drowned out every other emotion, even his. "Thank you," she murmured. "The first step to getting over this is to spend more time together. The more we know each other, the better things will be between us."

"Perhaps." He tilted his head. "Familiarity breeds contempt."

"Sometimes, sure."

"Does that also mean no fights, or arguments, between us?"

"I've got a temper," she admitted, "and I'll end up snapping at you eventually. But… my first instinct is to be on my guard around you, and I'll conquer it. We've got all the time in the world to do it. Besides, if we become friends, we can face the years ahead together instead of alone. Apart, but together. Okay?"

"I understand, Light."

She thought back to the day of the wedding. Were there really some lines they couldn't cross? Maybe. There was only one way to find out, and that was to give it a try. It was worth it. "Good. You're going with me tonight."

Caius stared at her. "He asked _you_ to go."

"Didn't say anything about not taking anybody with me, now, did he?"

He blinked. "No, he didn't."

"Okay then. You're going with me."

"Are you going to try to get me to talk?"

She rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest. Not _everything_ I do has some ulterior motive." Making sure her gunblade was still secured with one hand, she headed outside into the dark, cloudy evening. Caius followed a few steps behind her; she stopped and waited for him to catch up beside her. As they went along, Lightning saw her sister approaching and waved, but didn't stop to speak to her, thinking it was best to just keep moving. She hadn't spent much time with her sister since the marriage and felt guilty about it, but for the time being, there wasn't much she could do.

"I smell thunderstorms," Lightning murmured, breathing in the thick, damp air.

Caius grunted. "They could be vicious."

She breathed in again, this time through her mouth, to bring the air across her tongue. It tingled slightly and tasted like rain-soaked earth. The distant sound of thunder, so faint she had to strain to hear it, came to her. Squinting at the horizon, she watched for a lightning flash. It came as a brief flicker of white beyond the mountains. She quietly counted the seconds.

Thirty-odd seconds later, the faint rumble reached her.

"Still a ways off," she murmured. "Five, maybe six miles. We should have time." Pause. "I know it's dangerous to be out in a thunderstorm. Believe me, I don't want to get caught out in it."

"We'll make this quick," he said.

They turned and headed north. There was no one else out except a shorthaired dog and a dark-skinned member of NORA, now wearing the temporary uniform of the New Bodhum Security Regiment. He nodded and waved to Lightning, then seemed to suddenly think of something, hurrying up to her. She told Caius to wait a moment; the darkhaired man obeyed.

"Hey there," the man said.

"Hey." Pause. "You're–?"

"Oh, Miles. I know, you've never seen me before. Snow recruited me, then Rygdea picked me up. Know how fast those thunderclouds are moving?"

"Not a clue."

"Ten miles an hour."

"Great."

"Yeah, I know. Try to finish quick. Don't push it. You get stuck out here, you're on your own – nobody's dumb enough to come rescue you in the middle of a lightning storm." Nodding to the two of them in turn, he started off, then hesitated. "You're Lightning, right, Serah's sister?" When the woman nodded, he grinned. "Good to finally meet you. And this must be the famous Caius everyone kept muttering about."

Caius frowned slightly. "They talk about me?"

"Well, they used to, not anymore."

"What sort of talk?"

"Nothing you should be worried about. They were just curious. You slaved away trying to batten down the hatches and spent your time at the NORA house, so no one knew anything about you." A faint rumble of thunder punctuated his words; he screwed up his features. "Better get going. Catch ya later." Nodding to them in turn, he continued his wandering of the beach.

The two started off again, but Caius couldn't stay silent. "I wonder if they considered me a danger."

"Doubt it," Lightning said.

They walked in silence a minute. A gust of wind blew across them from the water; Caius looked into it, expression unreadable. Lightning, who walked downwind of him, gazed at him. The wind was strong enough to whip his hair around his shoulders and back from his face, which she couldn't see from this angle. His familiar gait and silhouette made her a little uneasy, but she squashed that feeling before it could get any bigger. No matter how she felt about it, she was going to get on neutral terms with him if it _killed_ her.

"So, tell me about yourself."

He looked at her. "Hmm?"

"We fought for an eternity in Valhalla," she reminded him, "but I don't know anything about you. Sure, I know how you are in battle, but as for who you are as a person, you're a complete stranger."

"What do you want to know?"

At least he was agreeable. "Well, where were you born?"

"In Paddra."

She waited to see if he would go on. He didn't. "Okay… well… what– when were you born, and what was it like for you growing up? Parents, family, friends?"

He grunted, but it wasn't entirely sour. "My father was a hunter, my mother a weaver. She could weave tapestries as large as the roof of one of those houses over the water, by herself." He stopped talking abruptly; Lightning cocked her head, feeling sadness touch her heart – _his_ sadness.

"And?" she prompted.

He sighed. "When an army invaded Paddra in search of Yeul, she had already been dead for several years. My father died a few years after I received the Heart of Chaos." Again, he stopped abruptly.

She groaned. "Caius, just spit it out. I'll keep nagging 'til you do."

"Fine," he muttered, "if you're so stubborn."

"You _know _I am."

"My father made a point to tell me that, no matter what, I was still his son," he added, a little more gently. "I spent the first few weeks after gaining the power of chaos unsure of what to do, but he– he… told me that I would always be his flesh and blood, even if he grew old and I never did."

"That's good."

"He was always so sure I would be fine."

"And he was right."

"Not entirely."

Hearing the rumble of thunder, louder now, she made a worried sound in her throat and picked up the pace. Caius had longer strides, meaning she had to take one-and-a-half to two for every one of his. When he noticed her trying to keep up, he slowed his pace again, just enough for her to keep up without too much effort.

"How old are you, physically?"

"Twenty-seven."

Lightning examined his features. While weathered by centuries, they did indeed have the smoothness of youth just beginning to roughen toward middle age. "And chronologically?"

"Chronologically–" He frowned at the sky. "Thirteen hundred and… ninety-odd years. Give or take a few months."

"So, fourteen hundred."

"Close enough."

She made a soft sound of acknowledgement in her throat. "I'm twenty-one, going on twenty-two. Real young next to you." She smirked and shook her head at the thought – physically, the man was only six years her senior, but in truth he was hundreds of years older. "Both my parents died by the time I was fifteen. It was just me and my sister."

"So, you raised Serah alone, or were taken care of?"

"I became her legal guardian right away. I had to grow up fast because of that. Maybe too fast."

Caius said nothing for a few moments, walking with his gaze on the sand and the wind playing with his hair. "Too young, you believe, to have done what you had to do?" he said at last, and gazed at her.

She shrugged. "It _had_ to be done."

"Tell me, how do you feel, looking back on those years?"

Immediately clamming up, she grunted and looked away. Those were years she would rather not discuss and things she only told to those she trusted. "You know, it's not important."

"As you wish." He looked away again.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, slightly louder than all the instances before it. She walked alongside Caius in silence, one hand resting lightly on her gunblade where it hung in its holster across the backs of her thighs, the other hanging at her side. Keeping a close watch on their surroundings, she simultaneously let her thoughts wander all over the place – back to Valhalla, to the man beside her, to everything she'd seen from her place in the world beyond time and space. This was a new timeline, she realized, formed by her choosing to stand at his side instead of succumb to defeat. She knew how it was _supposed_ to end – her realizing the futility of their war and crystallizing – but now, she could never know the outcome ahead of time. The path ahead of them was completely fresh and new.

"You raised her well."

Lightning looked at her companion. "Thanks," she murmured. "I did my best." She hesitated. "Hey, Caius… what was– what–" Then she faltered, suddenly thinking that asking him about what had frustrated him lately one more time might just set him off once and for all, and she didn't want that.

"What was what?"

"Nothing, nothing," she insisted, shaking her head. "Forget it."

With an efficiency she envied, he pivoted midstride, smoothly blocking her way. She had to stop to avoid crashing into him. "What did you want to ask?"

"Nothing."

"Lightning, tell me."

"It's _nothing_," she snapped, and stepped around him. Two steps later, he had her forearm, gently enough not to hurt but firmly enough that she couldn't just wrench away. Hissing through her teeth, she sidestepped and twisted, trying to loosen his grip. So much for suppressing her violent instincts: every nerve in her body lit up as her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. "Let _go_."

He did. "Fine, if you wish to be stubborn, go ahead."

She suddenly realized what just happened. "Caius, I'm–"

"Forget it, as you would say."

Lightning glowered at his back as he walked on, then sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wasn't about to let him get away: she hurried after him, catching up after a few moments, but noticed the way he refused to look at her even as she repeated his name to get his attention.

Finally, she said, "Caius, _wait_."

She heard him scoff before he stopped and whirled to face her. "Are you going to apologize again? Or are you still going to insist we can talk this through? Do you not understand? We can _never_ be friends. We may someday be acquaintances, but nothing more. 'Friend' is a foreign word, Lightning, and just so you know, there are some things I would very much like to keep to myself."

"Even from your fellow immortal companion who promised to stay with you?" She snorted. "I've tried to be patient, but I guess it isn't working. You _better_ tell me what has you so wound up, or so help me, I'll just– I'll–" Slamming a fist into her palm, she growled.

But he laughed bitterly at her. "I can try forever, and _you_ can talk yourself to death, but _nothing will change_."

"_Everything _will change!"

He grunted and turned, marching onward. Lightning groaned and hurried after him again. Just as she got up beside him, though, he sidestepped away from her, putting some distance between them. She reacted by closing the gap again, but now he turned on her and blocked her way, forcing her back. The moment he touched her, she pounced, tackling him to the ground so he landed on his back with a sharp grunt. All arms and legs and clawing punches, the two of them struggled on the sand, each trying to stand without letting the other up. Eventually, he pushed himself to his feet with his legs alone, using a familiar wrestling hold to keep her back; Lightning realized his raw strength was too much, so she relied on her agility instead, twisting and feinting, throwing herself to the side, only to have him follow, still trying to force her away from him.

Lightning had had enough. "Alright, that's _it_!" And she seized the front of his shirt, threw herself around, and finally pinned him to the dirt on his back. "_Stop it_!"

He grunted. "Stay away from me."

She knew what he meant by "me". "Stop it, Caius. I'm not your enemy anymore. Don't push me away!"

Being larger and physically stronger than her, she knew it was only a matter of time before he managed to writhe out of her grip and press her off. All she had to rely on was leverage and agility, which she currently used by folding an arm across his chest and pressing it against his throat. Unfortunately, she'd used this same move on him before, and he knew how to free himself, so she'd had to use her other hand to force his arm beneath his back, where she twisted it and used his body weight to pin it there.

"Come on," she murmured. "Stop it. I'm not your enemy."

The look he gave her was fierce and predatory; writhing slightly, he slowly began to pull his arm out from beneath him while his free hand pushed against her elbow. Lightning gritted her teeth at the discomfort of applying so much pressure to that particular joint – he was ridiculously strong, and she had unwisely forgotten that.

"Caius, _please_. _Please_ stop fighting with me."

Pausing, he glared at her. "Nothing will change, no matter how much you wish it."

She softened her tone a little more. "You're being purposefully stubborn. Just stop it. Listen to me, Caius – you and I have had a rough road. We've both had rough lives, yours worse than mine, but still rough. I've seen you be nice to the people around here and even to me. Tell me, _why_ do you keep regressing?"

His dark eyes fixed on hers, and he said nothing.

Fear touched her heart, but it didn't belong to her. Suddenly worried, she released him and sat down on the sand at his side, watching him slowly push himself up to a sitting position. He wouldn't look at her. Thunder rumbled in the distance, even closer now; when she glanced at the clouds, she saw intermittent flashes of her namesake brightening the dark gray clouds.

"Caius?" she said gently. "Talk to me."

When he finally looked at her, rubbing his arm where she'd twisted it, the expression on his face tore into her. "You keep insisting on knowing a secret of mine, something personal, something you already know of, but know so _little_ of," he said, voice sharp, but tone trembling slightly. Lightning frowned, feeling his anxiety increase. "If you _must_ know, I miss _her_, the one whom my life revolved around. There is no one for me now. I did _all_ of this so she could live again in a world where she would not be lonely, and I lost her in the end."

"You–" Suddenly feeling bad for lashing out at him, she stared at him. "You're talking about Yeul, aren't you?"

Looking away, he said, "Yes."

She didn't want to sound insensitive, especially since she was dealing with _this_ ancient warrior. Choosing her words carefully, she breathed deep before saying, "I know you lost her, and I'm sorry, but I _had_ to do _something_ to stop you from destroying _everything_. Becoming your companion after she told me about–" Feeling this was ground they had already covered, she changed subjects. "Seriously, come on. I'll be here a long time. Stop pushing me away."

"What if we grow close and something happens to upset that equation?"

She looked him right in the eye. "Caius, we won't get _that_ close."

"That is what I believed of Yeul," he said sharply, looking back at her with a flare of hostility in his heart. "Yet the more time I spent with her, the more I grew to love her, and eventually she had essentially become my daughter, one I had to see die over and over with no way to stop it. If we spend enough time together, who can say the same will not happen to _us_?"

Lightning snorted. "Me? And _you_? Get real. _It's not going to happen_. Friends, sure. Lovers? Hah." She smirked. "If it were anyone else, sure, but I _really_ don't have the… whatever… to be anyone's other half. I'm too… well, _me_."

He seemed satisfied by this. "Then I shall not dwell on it."

She nodded. "But I'll keep you company. I promised you that. If you ever need me for anything, tell me. I'd rather you woke me in the dead of night then go having another 'episode', if you know what I mean. Come on, Caius, use your brain. You're not a stupid man."

He snorted and stood. "We should finish our circuit before the thunderstorm arrives."

She stood as well. "I'm serious."

He started off; Lightning caught his upper arm, and he stopped. "Lightning–"

"None of that," she growled. "Stop being hardheaded. I promised myself to you. Just because I made that promise in the heat of the moment doesn't mean I can't or won't keep it. No matter what lies beyond that stormy horizon, I'll be at your side. I'm not Yeul. I'm not a Farseer. I'm not your family or your lover, but I _can_ be your friend."

She saw him relax slightly. "There are some things you should not see of me."

"Caius, please, let me in."

"This," he murmured, facing her, "from the woman who called me a monster."

The emotions flooding her, both her own and his, made her feel unstable, as if she could cry at any moment. It took all of her concentration to keep from succumbing. "That doesn't matter. It's all in the past. I'm sorry for doing all of that and trying to kill you. Please, _please_ stop shutting me out."

He gazed into her eyes. "Will you do the same?"

She breathed deep. "Yes."

His expression softened. "Then you're right," he said. "We _do_ need to talk."

The emotion rippling off his heart and smoldering in the depths of his eyes seized her with fascination. She could separate their emotions well enough to know he was not influencing her; rather, the sensation of being this close to a raging firestorm of emotion, of _passion_, was burning away her defenses. And it was _dangerous_ to be this close, she knew, dangerous to touch a man whose heart blazed like the sun.

Dangerous, and _incredible_.

Suddenly afraid, she let go of him, taking a step back. It was then she heard a crack of thunder at her back, startling her so badly she spun and leapt backwards at the same time, back colliding with Caius's chest. She lost her balance a moment, but he caught her with one hand, and she stood again, eyes fixed on the approaching storm. The winds must have picked up, because it was _much _closer now.

"We need to get back," she said.

She heard him take a deep breath. "I agree. Rygdea did give us permission to do so, at least. We have that."

She nodded and pointed herself toward home.

Together, they hurried back to the NORA household as cloud-to-cloud lightning brightened the sky. The wind had picked up at ground level, kicking up dust and tearing leaves off of trees as they swayed. When Caius started to go off toward the inn, though, Lightning caught his arm and dragged him into the house, closing and locking the door behind them. They stepped back from the door as it shook.

"Oh, thank goodness!"

Lightning turned, still holding on to Caius, to see Serah running up to her. Serah hugged her. "I was worried you wouldn't get back in time," she explained. She started to go on, but then she glanced down and saw Lightning holding Caius's wrist. Whatever she had been about to say died on her lips; she instead gave the woman a half-bewildered look and stepped back. "I'll be in the bedroom with Snow."

"It's not what you–"

Serah interrupted her with the words "it's okay" and left.

Lightning released Caius and rubbed her hands together. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just don't think it's safe for you to be out there, even if the inn's sturdy."

"You wanted to talk to me more."

"Actually, _that's_ it."

Caius nodded and walked over to the sofa, sitting down at one end. Lightning sat down at the other and rested her chin in one hand, staring at the front door. It was secure, barely twitching in the wind, but the sound of it was so harsh and angry that it made her nervous. Caius, too, didn't look all that comfortable with the noise, drawing one leg up to rest his chin on that knee, brow furrowed.

"Don't frown so hard."

He glanced at her and grunted. "A Yeul I guarded four centuries ago was terrified of thunderstorms."

"Really?"

"Yes. When she was very little, perhaps four, she woke me in the middle of the night out of sheer terror." His lips curved into a faint smile. "I pitied her so much that I said nothing, letting her stay until morning. I then carried her back to her own bed. She didn't wake up as I did."

Lightning smiled at him. "You would've made a great father."

"Hmm. Perhaps."

Drawing both legs up, she wrapped her arms around her knees, propping her chin on them. "Caius, we need to talk about Valhalla."

Bitterness struck her heart. "Not again."

"Stop that," she said, but gently. "You _caused_ all this. You were going to bring about the end of the world just for Yeul, out of both ignorance and stubbornness. I mean, we need to talk about the war and everything that happened. Maybe then I'll be ready to forgive you."

He glanced at her. "I'm still not entirely sure that I was in the wrong."

"For wanting to _destroy time_?"

His bravado immediately faded. "What was I supposed to do?"

"What you did and tried to do was _wrong_."

"I–" Now he was angry again, and the firestorm of his heart blazed at the door of hers. "I– I _see_ that now. I see that what I did was wrong. I see that Yeul could have never approved of my actions. Forgive me, Lightning, one of these days. I can never truly rest until you do."

She sighed. "Have anything you want to say to me that _doesn't_ involve begging or anger?"

Amethyst eyes met sky blue ones. Neither of them spoke for a moment, gazing at one another. Then he looked away toward the wall, and she sighed deeply.

"Well," she said at last, "back to Valhalla, I have to ask, did you ever hate me? Did you ever _really_ want me dead?"

"You were in my way. Nothing more."

"So if I'd have just stepped aside, you would've killed Etro and called it good."

"Yes."

Somehow, she had trouble doubting him. "Then… _I_ was the one who hated."

He looked back and lifted an eyebrow. "You hated me?"

"Not completely, but enough."

"Do you still?"

"No, and that's the truth."

Caius gazed into her eyes, an intense stare that made her spine tingle. The way he looked at her was so deep and strong and powerful that it almost made her feel afraid, but also made her feel _alive_, just as she felt the embers of his heart smoldering close to her doors. Dare she open them and let him in? What could it hurt if she let his heart truly touch hers? Would _that_ risk crossing the line from friendship to–

"Lightning, if we spend more time together, will it make it easier for us to live a normal life?"

"I thought you said, when this all started, we _couldn't_ have normal lives?"

"Perhaps, as with so many things… I was wrong."

She lifted both eyebrows. "What was that?"

He sighed. "You heard me."

"No, no, I'm not sure I did. Did you… did you just say what I _think_ you said?"

"Lightning," he muttered, "why must you torment me?"

"Caius, why must you be so stubborn?"

"I was _wrong_."

"See? That wasn't so hard." She sighed. "You can stay as long as you need to. If that's through the night, fine. I don't think Serah or Snow will mind if you sleep on the couch. Hey," she said suddenly, "maybe you can take one of the spare cots in the garage now that no one uses them."

"This is a Farron household."

"I know, but here I could keep a better eye on you." She stood. "I'll talk to Serah about it, see what she says. I'll be in my room if you need me. It's just down the hall." She pointed; Caius glanced that way. "Get some rest while you're here," she added. Thunder rumbled; she shivered, wishing for the safety of her bed.

As she walked past, Caius said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She was tired enough that, even this early in the morning, sleep beckoned, and she welcomed the chance. Climbing into bed after changing into her nightclothes, she pulled the sheets over her head and burrowed into the covers to try and muffle the noise. Rain pattered on the roof. The wind blew fiercely outside. Thunder rumbled and lightning lit up the sky. Nervous, she bundled up tighter. While she wasn't exactly afraid of storms, the noise and destructive power certainly made her anxious.

She felt Caius reaching for her, as if he were right there, extending a comforting hand. Instead of pushing him out, she let him touch her. For a moment, she was the four-year-old Yeul, scared of thunderstorms, and he was the strong hand of her father if he had lived longer.

The desire to go back out to the living room almost overwhelmed her.

But he was Caius Ballad, her promised companion and little else. To go back and sit with him for a while was the most absurd thought she could have. It was impossible, one she only briefly entertained before crumpling it like a rejected drawing and tossing it away, where it turned to ash and flew away on the hurricane winds.

* * *

_I'm doing my best to make sure Caius and Lightning's relationship doesn't progress too fast, and also to keep weaving the main plot in, complete with foreshadowing for things that happen much later. It's still primarily a romance, but there's a lot of things I have planned, so stay tuned!_


	10. The Uncertain Future

_**10 The Uncertain Future**_

For the first month since the founding of the government, things went smoothly. It had yet to have an official name, but as far as organization went, everything was going fairly well. The settlement at the base of the pillar continued to grow every day. The security regiments grew bigger, and when Rygdea showed off intelligence reports at the morning meeting, Caius saw images of the pillar settlement bristling with construction equipment, indicating explosive growth as the Gran Elevator grew closer to completion. At first, the stated goals of the new government were widely accepted: unifying the Pulse and Cocoon people, stabilizing society, and building a new future in the wilds of Pulse. No one said anything about it.

A week after Caius had made the deal with Lightning to someday have their "talk", the first incident of this new arrangement occurred and caused a stir. Living in the shadow of Cocoon, balanced so precariously on its skinny pillar, the settlement worried, and the people on Cocoon – those who hadn't been crushed by dislodged debris over the years, at least – began to wonder what to do about their home. The pillar couldn't support it forever, they knew, and something _had_ to be done to protect it.

That was the first time whispers of the fal'Cie came up.

Caius, who had grown up on Pulse and watched society evolve from one fad to another, wondered if this would lead to the scorched future he had glimpsed centuries ago.

The next meeting was held in the Academy building, now the temporary one as the Academy decided to move their headquarters to the still-unnamed pillar settlement. Construction began on a new building there, overseen by the Estheims, to ensure it would be built to the Academy's specifications. Images showed a large foundation being laid by huge construction equipment. Gran Pulse and its people were prospering. Time was on their side, it seemed.

But no one could have been able to tell from the atmosphere of the meeting that Saturday morning.

"Tell me _exactly _what's going on," Rygdea insisted.

Bartholomew looked uncomfortable. "There are those on Cocoon who consider the fal'Cie the solution to our problems, from keeping Cocoon aloft to providing food and shelter. Then there are those here in the Academy who believe mankind should have its own society free of the fal'Cie. There haven't been any problems yet, but…" He trailed off to shake his head. "We're trying to keep everyone calm. There's many centuries yet before the pillar gives way, right?" Here, he looked at Snow.

The blond nodded. "It's supposed to crack four-hundred-and-ninety-six years from now," he said, "give or take a few months."

"Hope," Lightning said, "have you considered the metashield?"

The teen looked confused; Caius quietly cleared his throat and nudged her arm with his elbow. "Oh," she murmured, "Sorry. Sometimes I forget who's been to the future and who–" Shaking her head, she said, "There's an energy net you constructed in the distant future called the 'metashield'. It cushioned Cocoon's fall. There's no way we know of to actually keep it aloft."

"Cushioned?" Hope went from confused to intrigued.

"That's right," she said, nodding. "Cocoon fell; the metashield took the brunt of it. The impact was minimal. Sure, there was a nice kickup of dust, but it would've been a lot worse otherwise."

The teen folded his arms. "The technology isn't quite there yet. We can't even create an antigravity field without a manadrive. Still, I'll bring it up to the Academy and we'll consider it. The earlier we start, the sooner we can build and improve on it."

Rygdea grunted. "We've still got the Cocoon-Pulse problem," he pointed out. "No, it's not a big deal _now_, but I can see it gettin' there later, y'know?"

"There's not much that we can do about it at the moment," Bartholomew sighed.

"He's right," Hope said.

Caius saw Lightning frown slightly, at the same time feeling her worry. Fighting the instinct to reach out and touch her, he instead moved a little bit closer to within her personal space. She didn't object, so he relaxed and stayed where he was, listening. There was a little more back-and-forth banter as no one seemed to want to agree on anything anyone was saying, but finally Rygdea called a halt and changed the subject.

"The scouting will be in the spring," he said.

Caius leaned on the table. "Do you have any other details as of yet?"

"Not really," the other man admitted. "Just know we'll be goin' west, further inland, away from the big settlements toward the plains some."

"Then I _can_ be of some help to you," he said. "I have been all over this land. It is my home."

"Been across the ocean?"

"I have."

He felt Lightning's surprise. Rygdea lifted his eyebrows. "That's helpful," he said. "You're on the shortlist for the first run, Caius. Make yourself useful."

Caius nodded, maintaining his dutiful look as he had that entire morning, while inside, he thought. In his life, he had truly been all over the land and even as far north as the snowy mountain peaks of the arctic edge, but in his many centuries, most of his time had been spent in the tropical band north of the planet's equator. It was his home, as he had said, and might always be, but that was alright.

That, of course, led to him thinking that, if any of these people _really _knew who he was, or how he still struggled not to consider toppling Cocoon and breaking the timeline after all, they wouldn't be so quick to accept him. Rygdea would _never_ let him on the mission.

Lightning knew. Serah had trouble looking at him. Snow had seen the timeline and Caius's meddling, and knew of Caius's past. He did not have to earn his place with the people anymore, but earn the forgiveness of those who were still wary around him.

Lightning was his gateway to normalcy. If _she_ could forgive him, everything would be alright.

When the meeting was over, he walked silently beside her, wanting to speak but not knowing what to say. She was in her own world, emotions drawn into her, staring off to the side and walking slowly. He clasped both hands behind his back and gazed at her, wanting to speak, but not knowing what to say. Ever since their struggle on the beach and quiet talk during the storm, things had been neutral, but not exactly verbose, between them. She'd been too busy going through additional training, and he had been too busy being sent on patrols. As someone who knew the terrain so well and could move through it easily, he had become a valued member.

Now, after all the scrambling around, he just wanted to _talk_.

"Hey, Caius, wait up."

The man in question kept up the slow pace beside Lightning as he looked over his shoulder. Snow jogged up to them with an unreadable expression on his face. "Snow," Caius greeted him.

The blond matched his strides easily. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," Lightning said at last. She gave Snow a quick smile. "I'm just thinking. I'm trying to figure out what to do without any patrols to do." As she finished, she looked away, toward the sea. The sky, much as it had been for days, was overcast and gray. "Did Rygdea mention anything to… well, _anyone_?"

Caius tried not to be irritated. So much for speaking to her.

"About work? Well, sure, he's got a little work."

Lightning looked back at him. "What is it?"

"Ask him."

She groaned. "Snow, come on."

"I'm serious. I mean, sure, I can tell you what it is, but– hey, what're you doing?" Snow said abruptly, stopping in his tracks. Caius did the same, suddenly feeling sheepish for being caught. He had tried to move from between them so he walked a step or two behind, but he hadn't done it stealthily enough. Lightning, too, stopped and turned on him with her arms folded in her usual no-nonsense manner.

"Moving out of the way," Caius muttered.

"I'm including you, big guy," Snow told him with a quick smile. "You and Lightning want something to do?"

"We… _have_ been meaning to spend more time together."

Lightning rubbed her chin. "Sure."

"Really?" Snow sounded curious about this development, looking between the two of them. "How about this: they need some folks up in the Bresha Ruins temporarily. The elevator's just about finished, you see. They need security for the Academy's dig site."

Caius nodded, recognizing this, at least. By 5 AF, the Bresha Ruins had become a bustling dig site where all sorts of interesting artifacts were being uncovered. While he had never been inside Cocoon during its heyday, he had been there after the War of Transgression and had seen the crystal landscape Anima had transformed the lake into. Much could be said about the eerie beauty of that land. Strange – in the mysterious splintered timeline, he knew he had been there when Lightning and the others had fallen to the lake and narrowly avoided being crystallized alongside Yeul as the waters stilled forever, yet his memories were also blank. The true timeline was still there, somewhere, a timeline where he had not lived past the War of Transgression at all.

Even now, trying to reconcile every timeline with every other made his head begin to hurt.

"I hope they didn't find Atlas," Lightning muttered, and Caius silently agreed.

"No, no sign of any war machines," Snow assured her.

She sighed. "Where's Rygdea going?"

"I invited him back for lunch. Serah makes that amazing seafood casserole, and Lebreau–" He sighed and patted his stomach. "Man, those two girls can cook like nobody's business. That takes some mad skills. I really admire them."

Lightning smiled. "My sister's better than me, for sure. I can find ways to burn water."

Caius gazed at her in amusement.

"So, why don't you two volunteer to go back to Cocoon? I guess they also need folks to help evacuate the more stubborn people. Can you believe there's still almost a half-million people up there? You'd think after all the times debris fell and crushed things, they wouldn't wanna stay, but we've got some stubborn ones. When the thing finally falls, we don't want folks gettin' killed."

"It was their home for their entire lives," Caius said. "I cannot blame them for wanting to stay."

"They really shouldn't."

"No, but that is how it is. It is the same as people living on the slopes of a volcano – it's their home, and even though they could die at any moment, they'd rather die before leaving, and that is often how it ends."

Lightning frowned. "Too bad."

The trio made their way back to the Farron household, which was slightly crowded as a group of people from the government had come to have some of the famous food Serah somehow managed to conjure up. Sure enough, there was a crab casserole along with an assortment of meats and sautéed vegetables set up as a buffet on one side while sliced fruits were piled into separate bowls on one end of the kitchen counter. Lebreau was standing in the kitchen, drying some utensils, while Rygdea talked to her. They seemed engrossed in the conversation they were having; Caius avoided the crowd to go out on the front deck.

Lightning joined him just as he finished, surprising him a bit. Without looking up, he knew her expression was one of curiosity and frustration.

"Light," he greeted her, nodding.

Empty-handed, she sat beside him on the front steps, arms hanging off her knees. "You keep going off alone."

"I am used to being reclusive."

"Really?" She leaned on one elbow and looked at him.

As much as he wanted to respond, he clammed up and stopped talking, more out of instinct than anything else. He hesitated, then looked right at her, noting her stern expression. The curiosity was gone, and now the frustration was barely visible in her eyes.

"Yes," he said.

The sternness remained, but she blinked away the frustration. "Why?"

"That is how I have lived."

"You don't think you're still unwanted, right?"

He started to answer before hesitating. Doing so made her wrinkle her brow; he looked away. Her chesty sigh told him she didn't like his hesitation. "I am just another man to everyone but you, your sister, and Snow," he said quietly. "I'm nothing worth talking about. I wouldn't say I'm 'unwanted', but…" And he trailed off, looking guiltily at the sand at the base of the steps. He could feel his temper wanting to rise; he grabbed it and pinned it.

"Caius," she muttered, "don't be such a– a–"

He sighed. "I understand."

"Well, then, just stop. We're not enemies anymore. I'm finding it hard to think of you as such, even."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Still want to have that talk?"

"I do, really."

Still unable to look straight at her, he turned his head toward her but kept his eyes on the sand. "How could we ever sort through Valhalla?" he murmured. "How could we ever come to grips with what happened there? Think of the war we fought and how often we tried to kill one another. Think of–"

"None of that." Her voice bit like a whip and cut him off immediately. "You basically said it yourself: if you hadn't had to fight me, you wouldn't have."

He said nothing.

"Yes or no, Caius."

"That is true, yes," he muttered.

"Same here. If it hadn't been for you, I'd have gone home." She twisted to bring one foot up on the step just below the one they sat on and look straight at him. Feeling her blue-sky stare boring into him, he twisted to face her. They gazed at one another for a few moments before she said, "We can't hold that against each other. If you could've just blazed on by me without killing me, _you would have_. It's that simple."

"No one was supposed to die but Etro."

"Unless two of your three plans failed and you downed Cocoon. Then, you know, _everyone_ would die, pretty much."

Bitterness churned his stomach. "I was prepared to commit genocide."

"That tells a lot about who you are."

Careful to keep from breaking her gaze, he became much more hostile. "It was a final act of desperation if the other two had failed," he said. "It was more to simply coax Noel into coming after me. He was a desperate and emotional boy and easy to manipulate."

"So, what, you _wouldn't_ have killed everyone?"

She deserved his honesty. "If my other plans had failed… if Etro, or she and I, had not been the only casualties… I know that I would have."

He could sense her flash of horror. "You're scarier than you seem. Did your long life kill your morality?"

For a moment, he was tempted to say it had. After all, after seeing Yeul die over and over for centuries, he had been prepared to use genocide as a final option. So many centuries of loneliness, too, had embittered him to the rest of the world as he finally understood he was far more powerful than _everyone_ combined and doubled. Yet, now, as he sat before this pink-haired woman with her fierce eyes and secret strength, he couldn't honestly say it had. No, through it all, he had struggled and forced himself past a voice shouting at him to _stop_.

"No," he said, "and that's the truth."

The hostility died out of her eyes and faded out of his heart at the softening of her expression. She _was_ beautiful, even in the grayish overcast light. He liked the way her hair caught the light, how her eyes seemed to change color slightly when they moved, how the muscles of her arms twitched with the faintest movement. Glancing briefly at her lips, he remembered her smile and wished he could see it again, directed at _him_. That would be worth _every_ harsh word she could conjure up.

Mentally kicking himself, he dragged his mind away from that particular line of thought.

"This is a new timeline."

He forced himself to focus. "Hmm?"

"When I first fell to Valhalla, I saw across time and knew there was one way it would end: me on the throne and in crystal. I _knew_ you were going to win, but I did everything I could to avoid it and prolong the inevitable. But–" She took a deep breath. "Look at us, sitting here, talking things out. I guess… I guess there're always loopholes, things that can be done."

Nodding slowly, he shifted his weight, bringing one leg up to rest an arm on that knee. At the same time, he looked across the delta. Sunlight broke through the clouds a bit, but they still hung in a thick layer over everything as they had for days now.

He looked back at her to see her look at him at the same time. Their eyes met and they stared at each other; she looked as unsure as he felt. Not knowing what to say, he just kept gazing at her. Words rose to his lips and danced teasingly on his tongue, but all of them fell flat in his mind. There was so much he wanted to say, things he wanted to apologize for or explain or just _tell_ her, but none of it was good enough.

"Still lonely?"

He thought a moment. "Not with you."

A bit of embarrassment touched his heart; he hid his smirk, knowing it belonged to her. "Well, good. I plan to spend more time with you, so you shouldn't ever be lonely again. The more I get to know you, the more you get to know _me_, and the better things will be between us."

"Familiarity breeds contempt."

She started to scowl at him, but a smile broke through before she laughed softly. That thought was swiftly forgotten, though, as he let her amusement sink into him and took in her smile. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, a bit shy, he drew back, but smiled, just a small bit, as well.

"I don't think there's much more contempt to breed between us," she said, still chuckling a little, "but I guess we'll find out once we dig up each other's flaws and shortcomings." Then she hesitated, eyes flicking down a bit, and her smile widened into a slightly bemused one still flooded with plenty of amusement. "I've never seen you smile, not really, and definitely not at me."

His smile widened a little at this. As it did, he could practically _hear_ a wall collapsing from where it had once stood between them.

"I do have one question."

She shrugged. "Sure, anything. Well, almost anything. What?"

Shifting his weight, he leaned on one knee. "When the storm came through, you seemed afraid of it," he said. "You even seemed afraid of your namesake. Why is that?"

Looking confused for a minute, she then chuckled softly and shrugged one shoulder. "I like lightning. I do. It's very beautiful and so _powerful_… and so destructive," she added quietly, as if it were an afterthought. "It destroys, and it can't protect. It's just…" Embarrassment reached her features. "One night, the fal'Cie set up a thunderstorm that went all around Cocoon. One of the strikes was _really_ close, and the noise woke me out of a dead sleep." She pursed her lips. "I was sixteen. It blew a transformer and set a house on fire."

He nodded. "So 'anxiety' from that event?"

"Yeah. I like thunder, I like lightning, but I can't forget that," she said. "Nobody was seriously hurt and no one died, but ever since, I just haven't liked close strikes."

"I can understand that."

Looking him in the eye, she bit her lip, nodding slowly. Neither of them spoke; again, he had the feeling of wanting to say something, but nothing would come to mind. Her demands that he stop pushing her away had sunk in, yet he couldn't think of what he could possibly talk to her about. This late in the day, he didn't think it mattered.

"Let's go back inside," he said, standing. "Perhaps Rygdea will have something for us."

She made a soft sound in her throat. "Maybe."

As she shifted her weight and changed position so she could stand up, Caius held out a hand to her, letting it hover just within her field of vision. Seeing it, she hesitated, gazing at it, then at him. Her right hand came up, but stopped inches from his. A flash of anxiety struck his heart.

He couldn't blame her.

During their war in Valhalla, they had not always been able to hang on to their weapons. Sometimes, they would manage to kick each other's sword away or otherwise disarm each other, leaving them to attack hand-to-hand if either wanted to keep living. Once, they had ended up wrestling on a hard stone floor, each trying to choke the other to death. These were not good memories attached to his hand, which had often been used to squeeze her throat or strike her face or twist her arm.

Could they erase those feelings of pain and hurt?

Then he felt her take his hand, feeling just a little smaller than his with more delicate and slender fingers and softer skin, except where calluses had formed on the pads, heartbeat twitching in her fingertips. Gently, he helped her up, other hand reaching out to steady her once she was on her feet. Her hand slipped out of his, leaving them to stand looking at each other blankly.

"Thanks," she said.

He nodded, trying to look emotionless. "Of course."

There was uncertainty in her eyes now, a darkness that also shrouded her heart. Wishing he could wipe it away, he waited, patient, to see what else she would do. No more was said; she looked away, whatever pleasant feelings she'd had moments ago now gone. His smile faded; guilt slunk into his veins. Whatever she was now feeling, he just knew it had something to do with _him_.

* * *

Snow stood with both arms around Serah, liking the stoutness she had developed during her travels with Noel, knowing that the thin, soft girl he had proposed to had been replaced by this tough and wiry woman. She was still short compared to him, though, so he could rest his chin atop her head as she tried to clean the dishes. Beside her, Lebreau dried the dishes and picked pieces of food off anything Serah had washed but missed spots on. The woman seemed to be off in a daydream.

"Snow," Serah said at last, "it's hard to wash things when my elbows want to hit you in the ribs."

"Uh-huh," he said.

Lebreau chuckled; Serah echoed her and wriggled out of her husband's embrace. "We'll have some time together later," she assured him, rubbing her fingertip across his stubble. It reminded him he needed to trim it. "Just let me clean this stuff up and I promise we can sit in front of the TV for eight hours if you want."

He squeezed her. "For real?"

"Yup. And all the Chichu's Wild Adventure reruns you can stand."

He chuckled and moved out of the kitchen, deciding he'd spent enough time in there trying to annoy his wife as it was. As he sat down on the couch, he eyed Lebreau, wondering why she seemed to be a little out of it – so much so that when she stacked a few dishes, they immediately clanked on each other before nearly toppling over. This woke her up as she snagged them just in time.

"Lebreau, are you okay?" Serah asked.

Lebreau rearranged the dishes before putting the dry ones away. "Sure. I'm fine." But he saw the way she snuck a glance out to the living room, where three people were still sitting – Hope, Rygdea, and Sazh, who had spent most of lunch talking with Bartholomew about the government. Now he was quiet, listening to Hope tell him about the Cocoon problems, and Snow wondered if that was really necessary.

Serah whispered something to Lebreau, who responded with an indignant "No!"

"Well, what?" Serah demanded.

"It's–" Lebreau knocked over another stack of dishes just as Caius and Lightning came back in. Both of them looked a little unsure and didn't look at each other, although they both sat on the couch to Snow's right. "Really, Serah, it's nothing. Don't worry."

Lightning shifted her weight before standing again and excusing herself. Without a word of explanation, she went into her room and shut the door. Caius looked confused.

"You're never like this," Serah said.

Lebreau said something under her breath that made the other woman roll her eyes and sigh as she finished the dishes and headed into the living room. Before Snow could get up, she plunked herself down on his lap. A moment later, Lebreau finished drying and came back in as well, taking the spot once occupied by Lightning between Caius and Snow. She didn't seem at all unsettled by the ancient warrior's presence, which helped remind Snow that, as far as she was concerned, he was just some mysterious stranger from afar. He doubted Lightning's brief tale of Valhalla and constant war had made all that much of an impression.

"So, Rygdea," she said, "what's this about security at the Bresha Ruins?"

Rygdea blinked at her. "Well," he said in his usual drawl, "the Academy's sendin' some of their guys up there to run some special gig digging up old artifacts or somethin'. They're worried about monsters. I'm personally gonna go up to oversee the security end of stuff."

"Can I go?"

He chuckled. "Got nothin' better to do?"

"Not really," she admitted with a shrug. "So, can I?"

"Guess so. I'm only takin' a few folks with me, though, they don't need a whole bunch from us. Cocoon still has a security regiment, but they want some Pulse folks in case there's Pulse monsters. Make sense? Good. I've already got three lined up, and I need two more."

"How long?"

"Eh, a week or two. Not too long."

Snow noted Lebreau's contained excitement. The woman didn't typically get this wound up over something like this, so he wondered if there was more going on than met the eye. "Fine with me. I'm sure Serah can cook just fine on her own for a week or two."

"Anyone else?" Caius spoke up this time; Rygdea looked at him.

"If you mean you, nah, you gotta stay here. Might need some folks watchin' the town while we're out and need as many tough guys as possible. Besides, come spring, you'll be gettin' out for recon missions. Just sit tight and deal with it, will ya?"

Caius nodded, then stood up, excused himself, and left through the front door. Snow watched him go as Lebreau asked Rygdea something else, then looked over at Lightning's room. Had the two of them had some sort of argument? Something wasn't right, and he suspected it had to do with their interaction. After all, Lightning _had_ left the crowd to sit with Caius.

Serah leaned back to settle against his shoulder; he looked at her. "What do you think of those two?" he whispered.

She yawned. "Those two who?"

"Your sister and Caius."

She shrugged. "They've got a lot to sort out, y'know, but I'm sure eventually they will. Who knows, they might even become friends eventually. She mentioned that she wants to spend more time with him, try to get to know him better, so I'll take her word for it."

"Could be dangerous."

Now she half-smiled as she shifted for a better position. "Oh, sure," she said, "but probably not the way she thinks."

Snow blinked, then said, "What?"

* * *

Days later, autumn seemed to want to turn into winter altogether as each day brought more clouds and rain came almost every day. There were no more severe windstorms for a while, but there were plenty of smaller windstorms that rattled the windows and sent down torrential rain. Cooped up inside with little else to do, Lightning spent some her time in front of a new TV Snow and Serah had bought to put out in the living room, which apparently they had been meaning to do for some time. Now that a few repeaters for stations had been set up, she could see some of the same things she used to watch back in the old Bodhum.

The weather meant she was usually alone. Rygdea had taken off for the next week or two with Lebreau and a few other people to the Bresha Ruins. Serah continued working as a schoolteacher. Snow stayed in the master bedroom with their personal TV.

Lightning hadn't seen Caius, really, since that Saturday when they had unceremoniously parted ways. Had he been avoiding her again? He'd probably been tipped off to her anxiety – the sight of his hand had brought back enough sour memories for that, but the _touch_ of it…

She groaned and buried her face in her hands, trying to get away from her sour thoughts. The _touch_ of his hand had not been unsettling at all. There had been great strength in his fingers, but in spite of his hand practically swallowing hers and how powerful she sensed it actually was, the way his warmth had bled into her was soothing, and she didn't like that reaction at all.

She lifted her face and rubbed her hands together.

This afternoon, she kept herself busy by washing dishes and cleaning wherever she saw even a speck of dust. Now that she was done dusting, she focused on the dishes, washing them and stacking them as she went through a pile stacked high on the right side. As she worked, so did her mind, pouring over the events of the past week as she tried to sort everything out. Caius had hardly spoken to her since that night, apparently keeping to himself, and his emotions told her he too was a little confused by what had happened. Meanwhile, she wondered what would become of the military, and how everything would proceed from here on out.

As she finished stacking the dishes and picked up a towel to drive them, the front door opened.

She peered around the cabinets. "Hey, you."

Her immortal companion hesitated at the sound of her voice, expression a mask of neutrality, before sitting at the bar with his back perfectly straight. Lightning frowned, but dried the dishes without another word. One by one, they went back to their respective drawers and cabinets.

"We have not spoken for a while."

She paused. "I noticed."

"That was nearly a week ago." Resting his elbows on the table, he laced his fingers together and pressed his chin to them with a furrow in his brow. "It will take some getting used to. So many times have we fought, and so often have our hands been used to hurt or attempt to kill, that to touch one another is–"

When he stopped, she nodded. "It's weird."

Caius lowered his hands to the countertop as Lightning returned to her drying. "Does it bother you?"

"Well, honestly–" She hesitated and didn't speak again until several more dishes were finished being dried and had been put away. "I don't know. Not really, I guess. It's not that big of a deal."

He visibly relaxed. "Good."

Lightning looked him over. His body was still stiff and a little tense, and he didn't seem to want to speak. Going back to the dishes, she continued drying, now moving on to the utensils. Questions raced around in her mind, but none of them came to her lips for a while. As he sat in silence, she finished the dishes, put them away, and set the towel down to walk around and lean on the countertop beside him.

"Thanks for changing into normal-looking clothes, by the way," she said.

He looked at her. "More comfortable than the armor."

"It's less scary, too."

Nodding, he looked away again, apparently content to just sit there. Lightning frowned and folded her arms, gazing steadily at him, trying to puzzle him out. He grew aware of her stare and looked back at her.

"Yes?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly. "It's almost like you don't know how to act around a woman." She wasn't sure how she had come to that conclusion, but, somehow, the combination of his silence and slight feeling of awkwardness around her made her think this was the most likely explanation. "Haven't you been around them before? And, uh, haven't you… you know, _had_ anyone? You know, like, a, uh, significant other of some kind?"

His eyes met hers directly. "No."

Surprised, she raised an eyebrow. "Uh… no?"

"No." His expression didn't change, but she felt a touch of amusement from him. "I know it is difficult to believe, but between culture, tradition, my chosen occupation, and my rather… single-minded approach to the past fourteen centuries, I have had neither the time nor–" He hesitated. "I have had neither the time nor the chance."

Lightning nodded slowly. "I get that. I'm the same way."

"You are not so old."

"No, I'm not, but I still understand perfectly. I've spent my adult life in the military or acting as some sort of tool for something bigger and more powerful than me. Before that, I was in school and taking care of Serah. I didn't have the time, the chance, or, in my case, the desire, either. You don't have to explain too deeply."

After a moment, he nodded. "Then I shall leave it at that."

She hesitated. "Why'd you come here?"

He looked away. "I'm not sure."

She waited to see if he would speak, but when he didn't, she shrugged and moved away, looking for more chores to do around the house. As she worked, he remained where he was, and she had the feeling that, despite his neutral expression and silence, he was perfectly content to be there in her presence.

* * *

_Due to the fact Lightning didn't much like close strikes last chapter, I decided to put in a brief explanation. Her anxiety about it actually kind of came from my personal experiences, but for her, since it's Lightning, I came up with an explanation that had little to do with me. We do, at least, share a love of thunderstorms and lightning. As always, this story will be updated every Wednesday, so stay tuned, and thank you for reading!_


	11. Windows to the Soul

_**11 Windows to the Soul**_

The days passed slowly, autumn fading into winter, time feeling as though it were crawling along. The NORA household grew quiet as the only inhabitants became Serah, Snow, and Lightning, plus the calico feline Snow and the occasional neighborhood cat looking to play with her. With the weather regularly unpleasant, there were very few visitors to the household otherwise. Rain regularly swept the beach. Caius often secluded himself in the inn, becoming very quiet whenever Snow did see him, and for a while Lightning didn't bother him. This went on for a week or two, and generally Caius turned up once a day as usual, though he didn't say much. Rather, he seemed to be thinking, and Snow had to wonder what about.

Nearly three months after he and Serah had gotten married, he noticed his wife suddenly being much quieter than before, though he sensed it was not in a bad way. In addition to the stringy muscle she still had from her travels, she had put on a bit more weight and never said a word of complaint about it. Busy trying to help coordinate the security regiments with each other under Rygdea, he barely had any time to spend with her – Rygdea had suddenly pounced on him a week ago, and Snow, unable to resist helping someone, agreed. On the weekends, if he was lucky, he had time with her, but those opportunities were scarcer now.

One Saturday afternoon, marking his and Serah's three-month anniversary, he managed to untangle himself from duties for a few hours as Rygdea finally took pity on him and gave him the afternoon off. Not knowing what else to do, he plunked himself in front of the television. Serah was nowhere to be found.

Caius was the only other person in the room, sitting in silence at the bar, staring down at it. Snow eyed him, curious to know why he was just… sitting there. "Caius?"

The man didn't look at him. "Yes?"

"What's up?"

It was a few moments before he spoke. When he did, his tone had a distinct aura of concentration to it, which of course only made Snow's curiosity worse. "I have little else to do at the moment," he said. "Rygdea may call on me to help with the regiments, but for now, I am…" Pause. "…unoccupied."

It was then Serah came in the front door; Snow hopped to his feet and practically ran over to her.

"I'm fine," she said, deflecting his concern before he could speak it. "All I did was go over to see Lebreau. There might be a women's regiment. They'll be paying better than teaching, at least. Besides, it's not like I couldn't use the– Snow, really, I'm _fine_," she insisted as he looked her over.

"You've definitely put on some weight," he said. "Uh, no offense, of course."

"Of _course_ I put on weight. I'm supposed to. Doctor's orders."

Snow looked her in the eye. "What?"

"I had my physical a month back, remember?" she told him, tapping his chin with one finger. Snow was again reminded that he needed to clean up his stubble. "The doctor said to relax and put on some weight. Oh, and be sure to get plenty of exercise."

"Put on–?" Confused, Snow looked her up and down. "But you've always been this tiny."

She smirked. "Well… there's good reason."

"Which is what?"

"Don't worry about it right now, you," she said, flashing him that cute little smile that always made him forgot how to think for a second. "Everything's alright, really. Besides, I'll tell you all about it later. So, where's my sister?" she added before Snow could go on.

The blond rubbed his chin. She wasn't telling him something, but he was too tired to figure out what. "I just got back a few minutes ago," he said.

"I'm here!" came Lightning's voice from down the hall. A moment later, she appeared in the living room looking slightly disheveled. "I took a nap. Uh… what's going on?" She looked around, first at Serah and the mischievous twinkle in her eye, then at him, then at Caius, who had finally looked up.

"Nothing for now," Snow said. "I just got back."

"I heard that part. I mean… you, Serah."

She clasped her hands behind her back and shook her head. "Really, it's nothing."

"You wouldn't look so impish otherwise."

Serah shifted her weight. "Do I?"

"Serah, _what's going on_?"

"Oh, fine, I've only known for a month anyway. But I suspected before then." She looked at Snow. "If I'm getting fat, it's your fault, you big oaf."

Now beyond confused, he rubbed his neck and looked between his wife and sister-in-law. How could Serah putting on weight in _any_ way be his fault? "Serah, I'm sorry if I sound really stupid, but I have _no_ idea what you're talking about at all," he admitted. He hadn't been around much, hadn't been able to spend time with her, had barely even noticed she was filling out more, and now he was expected to know _why_ the doctor had told her to gain weight?

But she decided to spare him the confusion and just told him straight up. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at her for a second. "You're… huh?"

"Told you it was your fault."

Snow gawked at her a moment longer, then snuck a glance at Lightning. She didn't seem to comprehend this at all, staring blankly at Serah. He, however, picked up on it pretty quickly and enveloped Serah in an enormous hug that lifted her clean off the floor. She gave a squeak of surprise.

"Awesome!" He set her back down – delicately, of course – and grasped her shoulders. "That's… that's so _awesome_ to know! A family of our own! I can't even believe it!"

The way she was looking at him was almost accusatory. "I'm still blaming you."

"I wasn't the eager one that night."

"Okay, alright, seriously," Lightning cut in, making a throat-slit motion with one hand. "Snow, that's great, and I'm glad you love my sister so much, believe me, but… but… I _really_ don't want to think of my baby sister not only getting pregnant, but _what lead to her getting pregnant to begin with_. I don't want to hear it!" she insisted when her sister started to speak. "I don't! I don't like being reminded that my baby sister is all grown up!"

"Yeah," Snow said, "let's not think your baby sister–"

"Snow, seriously."

"–is all grown up and actually went and–"

"Snow!"

He stopped and grinned at her. Before he could go back to fawning over his wife, Serah finished, "Did the deed and _enjoyed_ it."

Lightning, looking helpless, groaned and rubbed a hand across her scalp with her fingers in her hair. Caius looked at her curiously before glancing back at Snow.

"Okay, Serah, for real," Snow said, patting her shoulder. "We're gonna be parents!"

"Mm-hmm," she said, "and _you'll_ be a father!"

At this, Snow bobbed his head. "That's right, I'm gonna be a father!" Pause. "I'm going to be a father."

Lightning lifted her face. "You better be a _good_ one too."

"He will, sis," Serah told her, "don't worry!"

Snow blinked. "Gonna be a father."

"Snow," Serah said, "_relax_."

"Okay." He hesitated, then hugged her again, this time giving her enough space to return the gesture. She felt so different against him, still little but somehow sturdier; he squeezed her a little, careful to give her belly plenty of space, before stepping back again but keeping his hands on her shoulders. After a moment, he dropped a hand to her belly to stroke it for a moment, trying to feel any difference. It seemed firmer, but he couldn't tell for sure and didn't want to keep feeling her up in front of everyone. "Hey… Serah? Can we go to the bedroom?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Probably best."

He started to take her hand to lead her back, but hesitated, looking at Caius, who was still sitting and looking rather interested. Snow cleared his throat. "Caius, are you busy?"

Serah looked at him, then at Snow. "Hey–"

"I can be," he said.

Snow half-smiled. "Nah, that's not it at all. Hey, can– have you and Serah, you know, reconciled?"

He could tell by the look of surprise on the man's face, as well as Serah's sudden, slight tensing up, that the answer was a definite "no". It couldn't stay like that, not with a baby growing inside the woman he loved. If Serah could not come to grips with Caius's existence here, she wouldn't be alright with him being around as the child continued to develop and most certainly not after he or she was actually born. Snow knew Caius had to be accepted. That was the only way they could be sure he wouldn't regress to his old ways.

"No, we haven't." Serah spoke up before Caius could say anything. "But… we probably should, huh."

Lightning looked uncertain. "If that's what you want."

"It's what we need to do." Gently, Serah took Snow's hand, clasping it in both of hers. "Snow, go back to the bedroom and wait for me. I'll come back as soon as I can, alright? And Lightning–" Here, she looked at her sister expectantly; the other woman frowned slightly. "Can you give us a minute?"

The frown deepened. "I'm not–"

"She will not come to harm." Caius's distinctive voice easily cut through the anxious atmosphere, strong and clear, as he stood. Snow had little reason to doubt his word – Caius had no need to lie, not now. Besides, from what little time-gazing he'd done, he knew Caius was rarely dishonest.

Still, leaving his pregnant wife alone with such a dangerous man was more than a little unsettling. "Yeah, but–"

"Hey." Serah squeezed his hand. "You _know_ how tough I am."

Snow sighed. "That's… true."

"Please, babe."

Finally, Snow relented, nodding, then stepping back. Lightning looked just as uneasy as he felt, but she too stepped back, apparently convinced by Snow that everything really _would_ be alright.

But he wasn't about to leave her entirely.

Retreating to the bedroom as he had been asked to do, he only closed the door enough to leave only a crack, through which he could faintly hear voices if he waited long enough. Lightning went into her room, but from what he could see, she didn't want to abandon her sister either and left her door open just a crack, like he had.

* * *

Before this towering man in black Pulse garb, with his steady gaze and sturdy frame, Serah felt very small. Snow was the same height as Caius with about the same build, but she knew from experience that her husband had a soft, warm heart, no matter how hotheaded he could ultimately be. Caius, however, was an enigma to her, saying nothing at all this moment, merely standing and gazing at her, his only movement being the expansion and contraction of his chest with his breathing. Along his throat, his pulse could be seen, strong and steady, not that fast, an indicator of a man in very good shape.

If he was the typical Pulse native, then he could go for miles before having to rest. Both Fang and Vanille had had the efficiency of those used to living off the land and in the planet's rough terrain and tough climate. Caius had had centuries to adapt to its dangers, and it showed in every line of his body even as he stood still.

To say she was a little afraid would not in the least be a lie.

"What am I supposed to say," she muttered.

He shifted his weight. Beads clicked together with the movement and leather creaked. Most of his clothing seemed to be made of a durable black fabric lined with purple, though, which made no sound at all.

Feeling his heavy stare, she lowered one hand to rest on her belly, thinking of the future. This child would be born into a timeline none of them could predict. Caius, who would have been the timeline's destroyer, would live here in this village. Was it safe to have a child around him? Could any of them trust him enough? He was spending plenty of time around Lightning, certainly, but who knew what he was up to with her? She had seen her sister with him, even touching him, but other than some light teasing, Serah had no idea what the status of the relationship between the two of them was. Perhaps it was pleasant. Perhaps not.

"I want to congratulate you."

Serah looked him in the eye. It was unsettling, to say the least – the first time she'd seen him was in a dream of him warring with Lightning in Valhalla, and the first time she'd looked him in the eye was in Oerba, after which he had tried to kill her and Noel both. But she had to be brave. "Why?"

"You have the chance to begin a family here in this new world," he said, gesturing with one hand to her belly. She pressed both hands a little tighter to it. "That is a gift."

She looked down. "I guess."

He took a deep breath. "No amount of talking can erase what has been done in the past. You know this."

She looked back at him. "That's not necessarily true."

His brow furrowed. "Isn't it?"

Forcing herself to be brave, she stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. "I'm not my sister," she murmured. "I can be pretty fierce, as you know, but I'm not as unforgiving. I'm not one to hold a grudge. I get it. You're trying to fit in here. You made a promise to my sister. You need to take care of her."

He chuckled, but it was bitter. "That I cannot do."

"Yes you can."

"My promise was not to care for her. It was to leave the timeline alone."

"That doesn't mean anything. You can still take care of her. You can still be a friend." She sighed. "What made you decide to do this, anyway?"

"I…" Then he stopped, dropping his gaze to the floor between them. Serah took the opportunity to study him, looking him over as she never had before. There were faint dark shadows beneath both eyes and creases in his brow, likely from centuries in the sun and of stress. His lips were pressed together now, eyebrows knit together a bit in the center, fingers flexing and twitching at his sides.

Serah hugged her arms and waited.

"Lightning spoke to Yeul and discovered she had _chosen_ to come back time and again, so that I would not be lonely, as she was the only one who could," he said quietly. "Therefore, Lightning offered to be _my_ eternal companion so Yeul could finally rest and I would not be lonely ever again. In exchange, I would resolve the paradoxes and return with her to this place, where I would not again touch the timeline."

Serah nodded slowly. "And the Heart of Chaos?"

"Half of it is hers now."

Serah touched her breast with her fingertips in thought. "So, in essence, you and Lightning are bound together," she said. "Or am I wrong?"

"I can sense her emotions and feelings regardless of how far apart we are, and she, mine," he said with a curt nod.

"Your hearts… your minds… your very _souls_…"

"Are… entwined, yes."

She looked carefully at him. "And you did this on your own? Both of you? Knowing full well you couldn't have any companions if either of you fell in love, that you would live for centuries, that both of you would outlive everyone you ever cared about?"

"Yes."

"Then…" Serah stroked her belly. "Then… I'm alright with you, Caius. I believe you. I believe you can continue to do as you promised and so much more."

"Thank you, Serah."

She hesitated a few moments before saying, "You stabbed me through the back and sent me to a dream. You did the same to Noel. You tried to do the same to Lightning. You tried to kill us so many times, and you were going to destroy the timeline, even millions of people if you had to, just to save one girl. If you think I'm going to just _forget_ any of that, you're crazy."

"Serah," he said, and his voice was very firm, "I am not stable. I am very old, though I am trapped in this form of eternal youth. If you simply forgot all I have done and moved on, that would be foolishness."

"Not stable, huh," she murmured. "Why?"

"Too many centuries."

She chewed her lip. "You're with us now. Lightning can handle you if no one else can. Go to her."

His eyes were weary. "She is my companion. Little else."

"Then let her be that." She sighed, thinking of her sister, who was now, weirdly, the same age as her. Lightning was a fierce, volatile, somewhat unforgiving young woman, but she was not entirely imperfect. Since the woman had shown no interest in anyone, romantically or otherwise, Serah doubted there needed to be any sort of concern about the two of them growing close or intimate. Caius was a wreck, though he hid it well. She wouldn't have patience to sort through his scattered pieces and Serah doubted she would be attracted to his physical appearance. Then again, she _had_ surprised her in the past. "Go to her and tell her everything that bothers you."

He blinked, then smirked. That familiar expression was tainted with her prior experiences with it, but this time, it had a distinct are-you-joking aura to it. "I could be mistaken," he said, "but it almost seems to me as though I am taking relationship advice from you."

A half-smile quirked her lips. "You kinda are," she admitted. "I mean, strictly speaking, you _are_ in a relationship."

"It is in _no_ way romantic," he insisted.

"I know that. I don't really expect it to become that, anyway. Lightning's an independent spirit, as you know."

He nodded. "I am sure she and I can find some–" He hesitated, and seemed to be thinking.

"Bonding activities?" she said.

"I suppose that's the right word," he said with a sigh.

"Caius," Serah said quietly, "don't shut yourself off from her and don't seclude yourself away from us. This is your home now, you see? _This_ is where you belong, with us. It's not the greatest family in the world, but if you give us a chance, I'm sure we'll see you as one of our own."

He seemed to think this over a moment. "Then I will do my best to… improve my behavior."

"That's all I ask."

His gaze fell to her abdomen; she touched it reflexively, protectively, feeling as though she were being eyed by a tame predator. "It will be good to see a child come into the world from this family," he said. "After all that happened to all of you, I believe the six l'Cie, you, and Dajh deserve the chance to live a normal life."

She felt a flash of warmth at his words. "Well, thanks. Really."

He nodded curtly. "Of course."

She shifted her weight in the sudden silence that followed. "Well, I'm going to spend some time with the father," she said, rubbing her belly before dropping her hand away. "It's afternoon, but I'm sure you and Lightning can find something to get up to. Don't let her sulk around here, alright? Promise me."

He sighed. "Alright."

Serah turned away and headed into the master bedroom, which was in its own little building directly attached to the main building. The household was almost spiderlike in its layout, rooms sort of jutting off in any direction where they could possibly fit. Slipping into the bedroom, she saw Snow lying on his back on their queen-sized bed, arms flopped to the sides; she closed the door and lay beside him.

"Hey, you," he said, giving her ponytail a tug.

She smiled as his hand continued up to the band securing it, fingers tugging it loose. "Caius doesn't want to cause any trouble at all," she assured him. Her hair, freed from its ponytail, flopped to her shoulder, kinked near the top from the band. She ran her fingers through it, hitting snag after snag as she tried to shake it loose. Had her hair finally gotten too long? "I'm not that worried about him."

He rolled onto his side and lightly patted her belly. "If you're not, I'm not, and I'm guessing he isn't either."

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. "Oh, what, you think it's a 'he'?"

"Sure, why not?"

"The baby's only a few inches long," she reminded him, tapping the tip of his nose. "We can't really see if it's a he or a she yet. We will soon though, don't worry."

"So? What should we call him?"

Serah rolled her eyes at his insistence on calling the baby a "he". "We've got _way_ more than enough time to figure out a name, silly bear," she reminded him. "Don't worry about it."

Snow grunted and buried his face in her shoulder, one arm beneath her, the other embracing her torso. As she lay there in thought, Lightning and Caius flitting through her mind as she wondered about their relationship, she stroked her belly, over and over, for the first time truly eager to see what the future would bring.

* * *

"Are you busy?"

Lightning lifted her head from her pillow to see Caius standing at her door. "Napping."

"I see." Pause. "Are you busy _now_?"

She felt the corners of her lips twitch, but refused to let her smile through. "I guess not," she said, and sat up. She'd been lying down in shorts and a sleeveless top, which seemed like the wrong clothing for the weather to an outside observer, but the air was hot and humid. Anything else would be torture. "Why?"

He visibly hesitated. "May I come in?"

"Sure." She scooted closer to the pillow and patted the sheets beside her. She felt his surprise touch her heart before he sat down. His weight made the bed noticeably sink beneath her. "What's on your mind?" she asked, folding her arms in a subconscious effort to keep some distance between them. Sure, she'd touched his hand, and sure, they were sitting close together, but that was as far as it needed to go.

"Serah told me to be kind to you, and to go to you whenever I needed to… talk."

"Ah." She nodded. "Told you, huh?"

"Indeed."

"Do you want to have that 'talk' now?"

He leaned back a bit and supported himself with both hands, gazing at the wall. "I'm not sure what we can even talk about," he said.

"Maybe we can clear up how you feel about Yeul," she said gently. "Maybe we can unbury your hurt and my hurt and how things are between us. I'm not sure what the status of our relationship is. I'd like to know."

"Less than friends," he said, "more than acquaintances."

"Hmm." She looked at him carefully. "And Yeul was a daughter to you. What sort of obsessive father goes to such lengths for his daughter?"

He frowned. "I was… desperate."

"I guess."

"You must understand. I am _very_ old, this youthful form being my skin, but not who I am. I have seen her die over and over for many centuries. For well over a _millennium_. And I, as her Guardian, was _powerless_ to stop any of it, _powerless_ to save her from her fate, bound by rules and chained by death. The only thing left to do to stop it was to destroy time_ itself_–"

When he stopped, she flexed her fingers, trying to think of what to say. "And if time stopped," she murmured, "you would be surrounded by other immortals."

He looked solemn. "Yes."

Lightning chewed her lip and frowned. "No wonder Yeul was able to appeal to you. She went straight for your emotions, didn't she, when you went to speak to her. She asked you to give up your crusade now that you knew the truth and were willing to listen, and told you to come back here so–"

He abruptly stood. "So I could be with you."

That was the first time Lightning truly comprehended the depth of their arrangement. Linked heart-to-heart with this powerful, lonely immortal warrior, she once again had a burden to bear: keeping him sane. Could a friend manage to do that to the extent she knew he needed?

"Well, you're here," she said, "and I'm keeping my promise to you. Don't forget that."

His back was turned to her. "I shall not."

"Hey." Standing, she touched his arm. "I'm here, really. Always. Forever."

Turning slightly, he surprised her by looking her right in the eye, and she saw his expression soften, the gloominess leaving the lines of his face as he gazed at her. As she stared at him, half-entranced by what she saw in those ancient eyes of his, he extended a hand and gently touched her shoulder, seeming unsure of himself, but the gesture did not betray his uncertainty – only his heart, blazing inches from hers, did. As she stood there, still staring, she found that while he burned like the sun, it wasn't so frightening now, emotions ebbing off him like flares, but under the flames lay a bed of coals, soothingly warm instead of blazingly hot, and it both frightened and intrigued her.

There was something about him that _fascinated_ her.

"Yes, and I can never thank you enough," he said quietly. "You willingly stand by the man who tried to destroy you and everything you loved. For that, I commend you."

She held the gaze. "Thanks."

Silence fell between them for a few moments as they continued their staring contest. Wanting to win, she held the gaze even longer, getting into what should have been an uncomfortable amount of time, but it wasn't, and Caius did not look at all prepared to let her win this round.

A smirk flitted across his lips. "You are quite stubborn, Light," he said. "Refusing to back down, I see."

"You know it," she responded smoothly.

Folding his arms, he tilted his head. "Still as determined to win as ever."

Was he teasing her? She almost thought he was, but couldn't tell. Shaking her head, she turned away and returned to her bed, sitting down on it. Caius remained where he was, looking down at her.

"I will leave you to rest."

Lightning nodded. "Thanks. You should probably get some rest, too."

He returned her nod and silently left the room. The moment the sound of his footsteps vanished, she curled up on the bed with her stuffed blue chocobo and its black button eyes and hugged it close. Where her thoughts went then were almost beyond her control, but she did her best to maintain some semblance of lucidity even as she began to drift off into a light doze that eventually became sleep.

* * *

_I may end up updating this story whenever I deem it best rather than every Wednesday. It depends. So if there isn't a fresh chapter for a little while, or if one's uploaded within days of the last one, that's why. Anyway, thanks for all the wonderful feedback y'all have been leaving me, I really do appreciate it and it brightens my day._


	12. Cocoon and Pulse

_**12 Cocoon and Pulse**_

Autumn transformed into winter. Serah began to visibly develop, gaining a swollen belly as the baby continued to grow inside her. Snow, still scrambling to help Rygdea coordinate with the pillar settlement and several other places, including what remained of settlements on Cocoon, grew frustrated with his inability to spend time with her and his child. Serah continually assured him everything would be fine, even as she began to look into a position at the upcoming women's security regiment. Rygdea brought up the idea of a militia that had jurisdiction in every area, but each branch would function independently, meaning that they would simply be homogenous within their structure but not necessarily to the outside observer.

Then he dropped the news on Snow that, yes, there would be an official New Bodhum Security Regiment that would ultimately report to the central government but operate under the growing town's local government. Struggling to keep the branches working together, Rygdea asked if Snow would like to command the New Bodhum branch in his stead. Snow, shocked, nonetheless agreed.

This eventually led to him looking for people to work under his command. After the first Saturday meeting of winter, during which the branches of the Gran Pulse Militia were officially recognized, he asked if others were willing to join him. Blitz Squadron and anyone else who worked security in Old Bodhum jumped at the opportunity to work in their new home. Lightning agreed to help out as well. Caius surprised everyone when he volunteered his services; Snow gratefully accepted.

On the other side of the Bodhum Cliffs, the Academy building began to undergo a makeover. As the first level of the new building in the pillar settlement neared completion, the Academy was moved into it and began to perform their duties around constant and loud construction. Due to the building's planned prominence, someone suggested naming the settlement Academia, and although most of those present thought it was stupid, the name immediately stuck in spite of efforts to come up with a new one. Meanwhile, in the old building, New Bodhum's local government set up shop and renovated the unfinished structure for their needs.

At first, there honestly wasn't much for the militia members to do except sit tight. Snow and the other commanders of the branches – New Bodhum, Academia, and a tiny but steadily-growing settlement on the other side of Cocoon called Shadowton, whose claim to fame was a pub called Behold the Death Glare of Cocoon – spent every Saturday afternoon coordinating their manpower while trying to make sense out of the chaotic society that had begun to grow out of Cocoon's citizens migrating to Pulse. Every day of the work week, again the commanders went into meetings and shuffled troops around, trying to find the magic combination.

Three weeks into winter, something _finally_ changed.

* * *

It was sunny, for once, though the scent of rain hung in the air, making the breeze damp. Serah stumbled into the kitchen after emptying her stomach of the bile it'd held the entire night. Her lower back ached, and higher up, toward her shoulders, her spine grumbled at her to be kind to it. Nothing looked appetizing; she instead opened the window and breathed in the fresh air. It helped a little to calm her queasy stomach.

"Should be about done by now," she muttered. At her last visit, she'd asked if the morning sickness would stop soon since she hadn't had to deal with it the first couple of months and it had suddenly cropped up. The doctor, knowing about her time-traveling habits less than six months prior, told her it was a residual temporal effect in her system, which disrupted every natural rhythm in her biology. Serah hadn't understood all of it, but the doctor had assured her everything else was nominal.

Still, "residual temporal effect", while not impossible, was disturbing, but it explained her sudden onset of morning sickness.

As she made up a pot of coffee and tried not to let the smell get to her, she heard footsteps and saw Lightning come out of the back bedroom, hair disheveled and eyes a bit puffy from sleep. She frowned at her sister, thinking that she seemed a little more out of it than usual.

"Morning, sis," she said.

Lightning yawned and flexed her fingers. "Hey, you," she said with a smile.

Serah turned on the coffee maker. "We cultivated these beans," she said with a half-smile. "There's a field beyond the dunes by the plains where we grew some crops. These are good old Pulsian coffee beans."

Lightning groaned softly. "Sounds good, actually."

"Are you okay?"

"Oh…" She rubbed her eyes a moment before answering. "I feel a little under the weather, but I'm fine. Kinda tired and achy, but that's probably just from all the fussing around that's been going on. You?"

Serah groaned. "Morning sickness."

Lightning looked confused. "Wait, I thought that only happened for the first couple of months."

"Residual temporal effect."

"What?"

"It apparently disturbed my biological rhythms. Or something." She still didn't quite understand it. "Anyway, I'm fine. I actually feel much better now. And that coffee smells pretty good." She glanced at it; the water hadn't heated up yet, but the smell of fresh-ground coffee beans still hung in the air and made her mouth water.

Lightning cleared her throat. "Could use some, if you don't mind."

Serah looked suspiciously at her. "Are you _really_ okay?"

"Just tired. But okay otherwise."

Serah shrugged and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. "Doctor said no stimulants," she explained. "He said not to take a chance on the baby."

Lightning nodded. "Makes sense."

"I have to go in for another exam pretty soon," she said with a smile. The water for the coffee began to hiss. "I'm debating whether or not to wait and be surprised about the gender, or find out the first chance I get. I don't know. I kind of like the idea of being surprised."

"Just as long as you don't accidentally call him 'Petunia' or her 'Bob' or something," Lightning muttered.

Serah giggled. "'Petunia' or 'Bob'? Are you for real?"

Lightning made a face at her.

The sisters stood in silence while the coffee finished heating up beside them. Lightning cleared her throat, obviously trying to be quiet about it; Serah leaned on the counter to stare at the coffeepot. Through the window, the sun began to light the winter clouds, struggling to come up over the horizon. Finally, the coffee was done, and Serah filled a mug for her sister and one for her husband, who was due to come out of the bedroom any minute now. Lightning leaned on the counter to savor hers.

"Good?" Serah asked.

Lightning hummed softly and smiled at her. "Good flavor."

"Lebreau's special brew," Serah told her. She took a deep sniff of the coffee before setting it aside again, longing for just a few drops of that luxurious flavor.

The other woman looked over her shoulder at the front entrance, which was shut but not locked. On the wall, the hands of the clock indicated six-fifty-seven. The door to the master bedroom creaked open; Serah looked to see Snow walk out in his boxers and a white tee-shirt, yawning wide and looking quite groggy. She winced at the sight, knowing from his somewhat fitful sleep the previous night that he was exhausted.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

He finished yawning and came up beside her, taking the other mug of coffee. "It's mornin' alright," he muttered, then took a sip of the coffee. "Good stuff here."

"Not a _good_ morning?"

Snow looked miserable. "I can't spend time with you."

Serah winced again, then came over and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. "I'll be on maternity leave soon enough," she said soothingly, "and you'll get a break. We'll have a chance to spend time together, okay? Don't you worry."

He sighed, but set his coffee down to return her embrace. "This arrangement really sucks," he mumbled.

She squeezed him. "It'll be okay."

He groaned, but squeezed her back before releasing her to return to his coffee. She smiled at him before looking at her sister, who was still gazing at the front entrance. Her half-empty mug seemed forgotten where she held it in both hands, fingertips squeezing the ceramic.

"Lightning?"

The woman glanced at her. "Hmm?"

"What's up?"

Holding the mug in one hand, she pressed the other to her chest. "Caius," she said. "He's anxious about something. Can't tell if it's good or bad. He's usually here by now…" She looked back at the entrance.

Serah sighed. "The watched pot never boils."

Lightning said nothing.

For the next few minutes, the three stood in the kitchen to enjoy the coffee, Serah enjoying it vicariously through the sense of comfort and relaxation it seemed to provide her sister and husband. To keep herself busy, she excused herself and went to the bathroom to clean up, as she had to leave by seven-thirty for work. When she came back, Lightning was still staring at the entrance.

"Lightning!"

The woman glanced at her. "Sorry."

Serah glanced at the clock to see that it was seven-twenty-five. "If he doesn't show up, track him down."

Her sister seemed to suddenly release a breath she'd been holding. "Here he comes," she murmured. Sure enough, a second later, the front entrance opened and Caius came through. Serah saw that his eyes were serious and his body tense, as though he had days of pent-up energy locked inside it. Giving Serah and Snow nods of greeting, he ignored them otherwise in favor of walking directly up to Lightning.

"I spoke to Rygdea this morning," he told her.

Snow made a quiet sound of surprise and set his coffee down, opening his mouth.

"He only wished to speak with me," Caius said quickly. "He told me you already knew of this trouble."

Snow blinked. "What trouble?"

"We are lacking recruits," he said, now looking at Lightning, who met his gaze. Serah glanced between them curiously. "Snow has already been briefed on this, I was told."

"Oh, yeah," the blond said, "two days ago."

"Rygdea believes that since you and I are… lacking… in activities, we should be the ones to train these recruits," he continued. He clasped his hands behind his back. "It will only be a few weeks – I believe he said 'eight' – but it will be something until coordination between the branches improves and we receive more duties."

Lightning nodded. "I'm all for it. Gettin' bored here."

The corner of Caius's lips twitched. "Indeed."

"My sister's going to help whip some recruits into shape?" Serah said, and laughed. "I pity them, really."

Lightning scowled. "What're you saying, Serah?"

She grinned. "Not much."

Lightning seemed to suddenly think of something. Looking back at Caius, she folded her arms. "He didn't actually ask for the two of us, did he." It was most certainly not a question.

Caius looked innocent. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't try it, Caius. I feel your guilt."

"We needed time together."

"This'll probably transform into one-on-one time, you. Specifically, _alone time_."

"Is that so bad?"

"Not necessarily, but I'd like to keep our relationship professional as far as this goes. No need to bring anything else into the equation."

"You are a stubborn woman."

"And you're a stubborn man."

"Perhaps I would not feel the need if _you_ were not so hardheaded."

"Caius, just between you and me and Snow and Serah, _you_ can be _such_ a little–"

"Hey!" Serah interrupted. "You two can pick up your arguments later. Look, there's nothing wrong with being friends with someone you work with, Lightning. And Caius, you _know_ my sister is stubborn regardless of where or when she is, so why do you keep trying?"

He looked at her. "Point."

"So," Lightning said, more cordially this time, "when do we start?"

Caius folded his arms. "Tomorrow morning. There are fifteen recruits we will be starting with. Rygdea wants to brief us this morning, however, on procedures. If we do well enough, he said, we can make a career out of being training officers if need be. It has better pay."

Lightning nodded. "Alright. When do we need to leave, and where?"

"The old Academy building at nine."

Serah noticed it was just past seven-thirty. "I need to get going," she said, grabbing her stuff off the coffee table. "All of you, be good." Giving Lightning a quick, sideways embrace and letting Snow give her a quick kiss on the forehead, she hurried outside. Sure, school didn't start until eight-fifteen, but unless she left early enough, she didn't really have time to prepare for the day. Besides, she had to double-check her lesson plans so she wouldn't be totally unprepared.

* * *

Lightning watched Serah go and finished her coffee, trying to get every last drop out of the mug. Snow took a little longer, but a bit later he was back in the master bedroom getting dressed for the day. For a few minutes of the morning, she and Caius were alone.

A little nervous, she tapped her nails on the mug and tried not to look as anxious as she felt. Still, she couldn't hide her emotions from him, so she didn't try too hard. "Have you ever tried any of Lebreau's coffee?" she asked.

He leaned on the counter to her right, arms still folded. "No."

"You should, it's pretty amazing."

As he continued to stand there looking – and feeling – a little awkward, she turned and pulled another coffee cup from the cupboard over the sink, filling it half-full with the spicy brown liquid. Holding it out to him, she waited to see if he would take it. Finally, after a moment, he did, giving her a curt nod of thanks. She refilled her mug and took a small sip. The stuff was just spicy-sweet enough that milk and sugar weren't exactly necessary.

A soft sound of pleasant surprise escaped him. "This _is_ quite good."

She smiled. "Ever had coffee before?"

"It has been many years. I forgot how–" He blinked and swallowed again. "Hmm. How _strong_ it can be."

"Those beans were hand-ground and prepared by Lebreau," she said. "Apparently, they have their own crop out by the plains."

He took another sip. A feeling of contentment touched her heart, making her smile that much more genuine. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Certainly, he had centuries of pain and grief and scheming to get over, but as far as she could tell, he was making a genuine effort to at least hide it. She couldn't expect him to get over it overnight, or in a year, or a decade. These things took time. Little things like a fresh cup of handmade coffee and the company of friends and family, though, seemed to help, she suspected.

"Are you doing alright?" she asked.

He shrugged one shoulder before taking another sip, then swallowing and looking at her. "You must understand that I am still adjusting."

"You've got centuries of pain to get over," she said quietly. "But you're trying."

He nodded. "Yes, I am, but it is difficult."

"By the end, you weren't… stable."

"I can't say I am now."

She thought this over. "Will you snap?"

"I told you I will do my best," he said, very seriously. For a moment, the blaze of his heart cooled a bit, tempered by that firm determination. "That extends to your family and friends. I no longer have Yeul to care for. Therefore, I have no need to…" He sounded as though he were ashamed, and she sensed a little bit of hurt in his tone as well as it brushed her heart and he trailed off.

"You have us now," she said. "You still have your people, but there's us too. We're… sort of a family."

"You are not _my_ family. Mine is dead."

"_No_," she snapped. "It's not."

"In every way that matters, it is, Lightning."

"No," she said, gentler this time. "I don't expect you to get over your pain or grief or sadness or anger in a year or two. I don't really expect you to understand. I _know_ you're hiding a lot of what you've felt deep in your heart where I can't easily reach it. Why don't you let it out? It might make you feel better."

His expression soured. "It would be unpleasant."

"I think I can take it."

He finished the coffee and set the mug on the counter, gazing at the floor in silence. Though his expression was severe, his emotions appeared to be a tangled mess once again. Lightning frowned, knowing he would be a lot of work. She didn't want to fix him. It didn't matter to her if he stayed the passionate angry warrior he'd always been or not. She didn't care if he changed. She just wanted him to stop bottling everything up inside him.

And so she let him know that. "I was just like you once," she murmured, "cooping everything up inside until it bled and festered. It's dangerous to do that, Caius. You can't let it happen."

"I have for centuries."

"How long have you planned killing Etro and destroying the timeline, exactly?"

His eyes came up to hers. "I cannot be sure. Much of my history is muddled by time. Each day matters as much as the next rising sun when you live forever." He pursed his lips a little before saying, "This is the future you have chosen for yourself by staying with me, Lightning. Remember that a single day will soon become as an hour as each passing year means less and less. People are born and will die. Seasons pass, and soon you stop seeing them. There is no one to share it with anymore."

Lightning flinched inwardly and looked at the floor. "The baby."

"Yes," he said, but though his tone was harsh, she felt sympathy brush her heart. Not bothering to resist, she let him linger just outside her walls. "You will see him, or her, born, but someday, the child will die, and you will still live and look exactly the same."

She rubbed her forehead. "That's cruel."

"When you are as ancient as I am, you become full of years and tired of living," he murmured, and looked down at his hands a moment. "All becomes vanity and vexation of the spirit. And _I_ am tired of being alone. Yes, you will be my friend, my companion, but you are no replacement for the one thing I have never had."

"You mean a lover."

When she looked up, she saw the skin around his eyes grow tight. "Yes. A lover."

"Sometimes friends are better than lovers. Sometimes a family can be closer and tighter than a lover. You don't need a lover to not be lonely."

He said nothing.

"Take it from me, Caius. I've never had one and I'm fine."

He frowned a little, but changed the subject. "Try to understand where I am coming from. I am fourteen hundred years old and trapped in this youthful form. My mind is ancient and my soul is ancient. These eyes have seen things you may have only dreamed of. These hands have killed and nurtured. There is blood on my hands and much hidden deep in my heart that you should not know of."

"I'm no different, Caius."

He gave a bitter laugh. "Mankind was never meant to live so long with such a corrupted heart," he said. "I have had many centuries to perform my share of sins and shed my share of blood. I lived through two major wars before I was three hundred years old, and I was there when Oerba–" He suddenly cut himself off; Lightning felt a pang of guilt and hurt flash through his heart. "It will take time."

She finished the coffee and placed the mug in the sink along with his, rinsing them. "Well, if we don't go now, we might not get there in time."

He glanced at the clock. "We have more than enough."

She looked out the window. Her lips parted as she started to speak, started to tell him she just felt awkward standing and talking like this, but the words died on her tongue, teasing her by fizzling out moments from being spoken, and she just stood there instead, feeling suddenly guilty. It was more than just feeling awkward – she still wasn't all that comfortable around him, she realized, and though she knew they were truly equals now, his presence was still a little unsettling to her.

Instead of words that made sense, his name fell in a whisper from her lips before her voice died completely.

He moved a step closer. "Light?"

Bowing her head, she rubbed her wrist across her forehead. "I'm not comfortable around you yet."

His silence spoke volumes. The sound of him shifting his weight punctuated the silence better than anything else ever could. She sensed him move another step closer to within an arm's length of her; her first instinct was to create some distance. After all, he was invading her personal space, somewhat.

Then she remembered she had willingly taken his hand in hers and touched him _specifically_ to get rid of that anxious feeling.

"I can't say I am entirely comfortable around _you_," he said in a low, quiet voice. "That is the mark of Valhalla."

Her eyes came up to his. "It's no brand."

"No. Merely a scuff."

Her lips quirked at his mild humor. "We should do a little bit of buffing to get rid of 'em," she said, nodding. "You know that'll help. I'm pretty sure working some recruits over together will help out a lot, too."

He nodded. "I know it will."

As before, their eyes had met, and they gazed at one another in the same battle of wills as before. This time, though, it didn't seem the same. "We'll see what Rygdea has to say about all this," she said. "Eight weeks really isn't that long. Still, two months of above-average pay is better than nothing. You–" She lifted a hand and pointed her index finger at him. "–need to move out of that inn."

"Oh." A hand came to his hip. "And go where?"

"Don't get like that with me."

He stared at her.

She rolled her eyes and grunted. "Somewhere," she said, returning her gaze to his. "Maybe to one of the little shacks across the delta or an apartment by the dunes. Maybe somewhere around here. Who knows? But you've been in that inn for–" She thought a moment. "How long have we been here? Four months? Five?"

"Closer to five, but it all runs together."

"Yeah. It kind of does." She frowned, then placed a hand on the counter and leaned on it, other on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, you get my point. Move out someday."

"I plan to."

"Maybe you should see if you can stay with someone and split the rent. That happens from time to time. It's kind of expensive to build much of anything down here. Getting cheaper 'cuz of the Gran Elevator, but still. Apparently, _everyone_ had to chip in a year's wages plus some to get this house built. It's a miracle it went up at all."

"Really?" He glanced around. "Impressive."

"My thoughts exactly."

He returned his gaze to hers, but said nothing, though he seemed to be thinking about what to say next. It was hard to tell for sure. Lightning met his eyes, feeling as though it were much easier now to do so. At first, to stare into his eyes like this had been a battle of wills, a contest, where pure hostility ruled the day. In Valhalla, they had often tried to stare each other down through crossed blades as brute strength had not been enough.

Now, it was different. In those amethyst eyes, she saw not hostility, but pain, sadness, solemnity, alongside a sort of neutral contentment, a touch of muted cheer, and something she couldn't put her finger on. Caius didn't seem nearly as frightening as he had been once, nor as intimidating, though she knew from experience that he could change in an instant and become the warrior he was raised to be. He seemed human, something real, and it was getting harder to hold on to her grudge, to remember the past.

Unexpectedly, she began to chuckle, then broke the gaze to look at the floor, rubbing her forehead.

Confusion came over him. "I fail to see your amusement."

"It's just–" She looked back up at him. "I was just thinking about how many times we've glared at each other, and now we're doing it again, except it's different now, somehow." She folded her arms. "Maybe it's my imagination, I don't know."

"Hmm." He nodded. "Perhaps."

"Well," she said, and swept past him, "I need to change my clothes. _Wait here_."

Leaning on the counter, he folded his arms and nodded once. Satisfied he would obey, she returned to her room and put on her uniform – the same one she used to wear, although her body shape had changed a little since being in Valhalla, so now she wore something more akin to shorts instead of a miniskirt. In the heat and humidity, they felt a little restrictive; she made a mental note to look into changing her uniform altogether before hurrying to the bathroom to try and fix her disheveled hair.

Pausing, she stared at her reflection. There were faint dark circles under her eyes and her lips were a bit pale.

"Whatever," she said, smoothed out her hair, and went back out.

Sometime later, she and Caius came within sight of the old Academy building, now the town hall, and walked across the gray-brown lawn where it was being tilled for fresh grass to be planted come spring to the double doors. One of them stood open; from the other side came the sounds of hammers and things being tossed around. Caius went ahead of her without a word; she followed, leaving the door open.

The entrance hall was being renovated and smelled like fresh paint – a dizzying aroma that made her sneeze. Above her on scaffolding, construction workers peeled away wallpaper and clapboard, since the building had been rather hastily put together over the past three years. There were dried paint drips and splats on the unbecoming brown floor and a layer of dust clung to everything.

She wrinkled her nose. "Can't wait 'til _this_ is all done," she muttered.

Caius looked as though he didn't much care. "It will be worth it," he told her.

Catching a whiff of paint remover, she sneezed twice into the crook of her arm, feeling her sinuses ache. Whatever was going on, she hoped it was over soon. "Sure it will."

"Hey! It will!"

Lightning blinked and looked to her right. "Maqui?" she said, confused.

"If you're wondering what I'm up to, I volunteered to do the wiring," he said. The short blond climbed down from a scaffold in a navy blue zip-up uniform. He was missing most of the extra pieces he wore, like his goggles. There was dried paint all over him and a smear of plaster dust on one cheek. In his right hand, he held a bundle of fiber optic cables. "Guess someone mentioned I'm good with my hands."

"You're an engineer. _Of_ _course_ you're good with your hands."

"Uh–" He held up the cables. "Sure."

She and Caius exchanged a glance. "Well, we won't keep you," she told Maqui. "We've got a meeting with Rygdea to get to. Stay out of trouble."

He nodded energetically. She wished she had half his energy. "By the way, did you hear?" he asked.

"Hear what?"

"About the fireworks. Folks are thinkin' on how to bring 'em back."

Lightning thought of the famous Bodhum fireworks. They were simulated, of course, encased in a dome where they could be lit off once a night every year. Such a contraption would be trickier to build with the materials available on the lowerworld. Still, having fireworks back in the skies would be a little taste of home, and despite the somewhat unpleasant memories attached to her most recent viewing of them, she couldn't deny the fact that she wouldn't mind seeing them again. Those thirteen days were over, and the nightmares were done. It was time to start anew.

"I gotta ask," she said. "_How_ would they be brought back?"

Maqui suddenly looked excited. "_Real_ fireworks! Not those computer-generated, fancy, choreographed things that were so pretty but so _fake_. Nah, I'm talkin' about the _real deal_. Real fireworks that make people lose their fingers. Fireworks that can be lit off pretty much whenever we like. The sort of thing that makes you proud to look at."

"_Real_ ones, huh? You know–" She thought a moment. "Good idea."

"We're still workin' out the details, but I'll be expected to come up with the plans for the launch site," he said, and sounded pleased with himself. She couldn't blame him. "Then, I'd help build it. We'll contract out, get the site set up, then have an inaugural celebration. Y'know, somethin' for the kids."

"You're still a kid yourself, buddy."

"Hey, I'm twenty, alright?"

"Exactly."

He stared at her. "_You're_ twenty-one!"

Beside her, Caius snickered. She had some difficulty resisting the urge to punch him.

"See ya," she muttered, and turned, grasping her companion's wrist to drag him with her. Caius was entertained by Maqui's statement, if the faint fringes of amusement touching her heart were any indication. Would it hurt to whack him just once? Not hard enough to leave permanent marks or even hurt him. Just enough to let him know she wasn't exactly amused by his… well, amusement.

Dragging him with her, she pushed her way into the main atrium, where a permanent table, bolted to the floor, sat in the sunlight. Rygdea looked up from papers scattered across his end of the table. Lightning noticed his expression was notably less than pleased, though he greeted them cordially enough. Caius twisted out of her grip.

"Look what I'm dealin' with!" Rygdea gestured at the papers and groaned loudly. "Paperwork! Could make a billion paper airplanes outta this!"

"Guess you'll just have to deal," was Lightning's response to this.

"We came here for one thing, and that is what we are to do about the new recruits," Caius pointed out, calmly, but in a tone that had a faint touch of urgency to it.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Rygdea drawled, and groaned again, shuffling the papers. "We've got fifteen folks comin' to this building tomorrow morning. They're yours to torture all you want. They'll be the security regiment, y'see, so they need to be in good shape. Run 'em and make sure they get lots of exercise. Give 'em combat training. Teach 'em to fight the Pulse way, up close 'n personal. Lightning, I'm expectin' you to train 'em good."

"Sure," she said.

"Glad we're in agreement. And as for you, Caius–"

"How can I help?" Caius asked.

Rygdea looked at him. "You're runnin' support for our girl here," he said, pointing to Lightning. She blinked. Had she heard right? "You do what she asks. She asks you to split a regiment with her, you do it. She tells you to help out some other way, you better do it. But you'll work it out."

Lightning mulled this over before looking at Caius. _Order_ him around? As if. The man was too independent and too outgoing, and he had enough knowledge that to push him around would be an insult. No, she could think of plenty of better things he could be doing. He'd be put to work, sure, but in a way that set him up as her peer instead of a page at her every whit and whim.

Then she thought of something. "Rygdea, why so many recruits?"

"People need jobs."

"I'm serious. First you set up a security regiment. Then you talk about a need for security in the Bresha Ruins. Now there's an entire military force conducted under the provisional government. Something's goin' on." Leaning on the table, she looked him in the eye. "Rygdea– sir, what's going on, for real?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Look, some folks, they want paradise back, and they want it for free. Not everyone likes workin' for their lifestyle, okay? Back on Cocoon, in the 'good old days', we had _everything_. The fal'Cie tended to every desire. They made food, controlled the weather, protected us from animals. Movin' to Pulse was a wakeup call. What, _work_? Make our _own_ electricity? _Build_ stuff? Defend _ourselves_ against the dangerous wildlife?" He gave a dry laugh. "Some people can't stand that."

"And they want the fal'Cie back." Lightning thought of Anima and all the other fal'Cie they'd encountered on their journey, including Carbuncle. It was true – the fal'Cie had done so much, from making food to holding their world aloft, that to have to function independently wasn't something most people were accustomed to. She and the other l'Cie were used to it, having had to stay away from their comfort zones just to keep alive at first. Serah had become self-sufficient upon moving to Pulse, then even more so on her travels with Noel. Everyone else, though… those who had lived comfortable lives…

"Exactly." Rygdea grunted and pushed a stack of papers around. "Some people are crying for the fal'Cie. There's even talk in the Academy about using fal'Cie to keep Cocoon up. No word yet, but it's bein' discussed, and that's… not good, to say the least."

"Pulse fal'Cie typically stayed out of the everyday lives of man," Caius put in. "In fact, there are many of them all around us, but they tend to Pulse, not mankind. Each tribe had a patron fal'Cie, but in the end they did very little for us, and we were very much on our own."

"So, we need more security, people we can trust, just in case." Lightning chewed her lip. "I don't want to jump to conclusions."

"No, but people are prone to do just about anythin' if they're panicked," Rygdea said. "Like cornered animals."

Caius nodded. "I have seen it many times before. It was what destroyed my home."

Lightning looked at him. "You mean Paddra's civil war."

"Yes, precisely."

"And the War of Transgression," she muttered.

"To a point," he said, but quieter, emotions withdrawn, making it harder to read him.

"I don't have anythin' for you two in the meantime," Rygdea admitted. "Be here at eight tomorrow morning to start the training. I'll give you the lesson plan in a minute. Tell Lebreau she might need to cater. In fact, I know she'll need to. That'll be her duties tomorrow morning."

"Who else is worried about terrorists?" No one liked the "T" word, but she couldn't think of a better one.

"Bartholomew," he grumbled. "Hope too."

"Hope, huh?" She rubbed her chin. "The kid's really grown up."

Rygdea scratched his neck. "Here's the stuff you'll need," he said, using his free hand to give Lightning a folder stamped _confidential_ with the seal of the provisional government on it. The seal, which she'd never seen before, had the words _Pulse-Cocoon Foundational Government_ written across a stylized image of the crystallized Cocoon. She passed a hand over it thoughtfully.

"Go read up." He yawned. "And, uh, take a nap or somethin'. You're not getting paid past, well, now."

Lightning nodded. "Thanks, sir."

"'Sir', huh? Haven't been called that in way too long."

She smirked at him. "You're my superior, officially, now," she said. "From now on, you're 'sir' to me, sir."

Caius looked between them. "And, I suppose, to me, as well."

Rygdea looked carefully at him. "Don't see a security badge on you, but I know you're in the database. Even your pay stub says you're one of us. Well, we haven't even gotten uniforms yet. Uh, sorry, Lightning, but we're not sticking with the Guardian Corps template this time around. I've seen a few designs, and they're brand new. Oh, and no more custom uniforms. Against the rules."

She tugged on the hem of her jacket. "Fine with me," she muttered.

"Could make an exception for you," he said to Caius, "since you're from a tribe. I'll see about just gettin' you a badge and callin' it good."

Caius nodded.

"Go on," Rygdea said, shooing them with one hand. "Got stuff to do. Don't bug me."

The two excused themselves and headed back outside, dodging construction and fresh paint along the way. As she walked, Lightning opened the folder to examine the contents. The overcast sky meant there was no sunlight glare off the white pages, which made it easy for her to read. The first page had fifteen names she didn't recognize, probably the names of the new recruits. Other pages included economic reports, statistical data, and lesson outlines, giving her an idea of what they would be up to the next morning.

Back at the house, Lightning and Caius sat in the living room and spread out the contents of the folder. For several hours, they painstakingly went over every sheet of paper and discussed every bit of content. It occasionally became a brief argument when they disagreed, but they compromised. By mid-afternoon, they had managed to come to an agreement for the following day.

Lightning then surprised herself with a coughing fit as a sudden tickle in her throat came at her with a vengeance. In a moment, it was done, but the effects lingered as her throat tingled slightly.

"Are you alright?" Caius asked.

She cleared her throat to discover a small bit of phlegm in her lungs. She thumped herself in the center of her chest, just over her sternum, to try and clear the passageway. "Yeah, fine," she muttered. "That was _weird_."

"Do you feel feverish?"

"Uh–" She touched her forehead. "Can't tell."

He hesitated a second before bringing a hand to her forehead, where his skin felt cooler than hers. "No more than I would expect from slightly elevated blood pressure due to stress-induced anxiety," he said.

She looked at him. "That's a mouthful."

He hummed softly.

Rubbing her wrist across her forehead, she closed the folder with her free hand. "Well, I'm going to take a nap," she said. "I feel pretty tired. Must be all this stress." Groaning softly, she stood. "Thanks for helping me out with this. Should be interesting tomorrow, huh?"

"It's supposed to rain."

"Oh." She stared out the window at the overcast sky. "Joy."

Caius stood as well. "Keep the folder with you and safe," he told her. "Try to get some rest. I'm sure we will be busy tomorrow. First, three hours of lecturing, then outdoors work." The corner of his lips twitched. "It should be interesting."

Lightning gave him a quick half-smile, then picked up the folder and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Stripping off her uniform, she put on a set of nightclothes and climbed into bed. She was asleep minutes after her head hit the pillow.


	13. The Long Days of Winter

_**13 The Long Days of Winter**_

Lightning woke up the next morning and croaked when she tried to groan. Surprised, she sat up and turned her focus inward, examining her throat. The phlegm had returned, jamming up her esophagus partway down; she cleared her throat, finally having to empty it out entirely just to be able to breathe. Her joints ached slightly and her forehead felt a bit warm while her fingers felt cool. Trying not to be concerned, she climbed out of bed and put on her uniform, tossing her nightclothes on the unmade bed. Her chocobo was on the floor; she picked it up and set it on the pillows, right side up, where it could gaze at the wall with its button eyes.

Noting it was only six-thirty, she then went to the bathroom, which, mercifully, was empty, and finished washing up within fifteen minutes. When she came back out, Caius was there at the bar as usual, looking more awake than she felt, and nodded a greeting.

"Morning," she said, then quickly stifled a yawn and sniffled.

He frowned slightly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine, why?"

Instead of answering, he stood and stretched both arms overhead, then straight out to the sides. Joints popped as his back arched. Lightning knew how good a morning's stretch could feel, particularly after sleeping roughly during the night, so she took the cue and stretched as well, realigning her spine. It felt good enough to pull her up onto her toes and elicit a lengthy groan from her throat.

She clearly felt his amusement when he smirked at her. "Better?"

She grunted and sniffled. "Yeah."

"Shall we, then?"

She walked into the kitchen. "I need to eat," she muttered, and proceeded to whip something together out of the modest inhabitants of the fridge. This meant cold-cut bird meat and a sliced apple on two pieces of handmade bread with a hard outer shell. The meat was seasoned with herbs and the apple was crunchy and sweet. She went ahead and made a second sandwich, which calmed her upset stomach somewhat. A few drinks from the tap, sweet from the minerals of the soil beneath her feet, finished soothing her.

Then she started coughing, trying to clear her throat and lungs. She felt a hand on her back as the coughing subsided.

"You're sick, aren't you?"

Lightning looked at him. The weight of his hand between her shoulder blades felt good. "Might be," she muttered. "I haven't gotten sick in years. Well, a cold or two, but not–" Sniffling, she thumped herself on the chest and coughed again. "This… this isn't…"

His hand twitched on her back. "Is this not a good morning to do this?"

"No, it's gotta be done."

Caius pulled back almost the instant she spoke. "Then we should be going," he said. "Rygdea failed to tell us when we should show up this morning."

Nausea briefly made her head swim; she groaned and leaned on the counter.

"Light?"

"I'm _fine_," she snapped, but she wasn't. Her stomach was upset and her head felt like it was floating. Her hands and feet felt colder than the rest of her body. Could he feel that? If they could share emotions and feelings, could he also sense her discomfort? If that was the case, maybe she ought to add "guilt" to the list.

"You look terrible," he said.

She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. "You're right," she grumbled, "I'm sick."

"Perhaps we should–"

"No," she insisted, and straightened. "Let's at least get through this morning, alright? If I start feelin' really bad, we'll call it. But I'm not quittin'." Taking a few more breaths, she opened her eyes. Caius stood a few feet away and looked concerned. She folded her arms. "Why should _you_ be worried? It's just me."

"You are the promise I made."

Something about the firm, determined way he said that made her falter. She suddenly felt bad for snapping at him. "I guess," she said, and sighed. "Alright, then. Let's get going."

"Are you certain?"

Hesitating, she looked carefully at him. "Know something I don't?"

His hesitation worried her before he nodded slowly. "I recognize the symptoms."

She stared at him. "Is it fatal?"

Then his expression softened into amusement. "No, not at all. You're far too strong and healthy for that. No, it isn't fatal, merely… unpleasant."

"Then stop being so paranoid," she insisted, glaring at him. "It's not that big of a deal. Besides, I'm–" Pausing, she placed a hand on her belly. Her stomach lurched as she felt even paler than before. "I'm… a survivor. I'm just fine. _Just_ fine. Don't worry about–" Her head swam; she leaned on the counter. "I can do it."

A flash of anger touched her heart. "I know what this is."

"Oh, really?"

"_Yes_, and if you go, you will_ not _be able to stand up tomorrow."

Thinking this over, she glanced at him. Speckles flickered in her peripheral vision; she swallowed and blinked to clear them. He had a point. Who knew what kind of weird Pulsian flu she'd picked up? What if it was one of those really weird ones that attacked every system in her body?

But Rygdea was counting on them. The Pulse-Cocoon Security Regiment needed recruits, and badly. So what if he said she wouldn't be able to get up tomorrow? She'd do it anyway. She'd _force_ her body to serve her, to do as she said, just as she had all her life. How many days during training in the Guardian Corps did she wake up sore and bruised all over, as if someone had taken a two-by-four to every inch of her extremities? How many days did she spend wanting to _die_ from the pain and stress of eight weeks of harsh training? But she had done it every day. A mere Pulsian flu would not be conqueror.

"So what?" she growled, and looked him in the eye. "I've been through worse. If you think some kind of sickness is gonna keep–"

"_Fine_," Caius snapped, surprising her with the pure bitterness of the word. "Be stubborn. You _shall_ regret this."

"Don't hold your breath."

"You stubborn, _arrogant_ woman," he said, in the harshest way possible. Lightning balled her hands into fists. If she slugged him, maybe it would teach him a lesson.

"So what," she growled.

"I have seen your type try to defy this illness," he added in a dangerous tone. "You only need to get it once, and then you never get it again, but you _must_ be careful. It can range in severity from mild to very painful and take _weeks_ to get over. Do you _want_ that? How much use–"

"You might be my companion, butyou're _not_ my Guardian." Turning on him, she felt more pain shoot through her body, which only made her angrier. "Don't tell me how to live. I don't _like_ that!"

"Knock it off, you two!"

The man and the woman looked at the same time to see Serah, looking groggy, standing with her hands on her hips and her blue eyes ablaze. Lightning opened her mouth, but Serah cut her off.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sis. He's _right_."

Lightning, humbled, nevertheless muttered, "You know me."

Serah started to speak again, but got as far as "You–" before seemingly changing her mind. "You know what, let her find out for herself, Caius. We can tell her all the horror stories we want. She'll never believe us. And who knows, maybe it won't be so bad for _her_."

She felt Caius's spark of anger. "Serah–"

Her sister looked him right in the eye, expression severe. Lightning lost her will to be angry, overcome by aches and pains as she leaned on the counter, head swimming. Whatever. She could deal with it, and it was time to get going.

"You gonna eat anything?" she asked him.

Caius seemed to have to force himself to calm down. Had she forgotten so readily how volatile he could be, how easy it was to get him riled up? "I should," he muttered, and moved away; Lightning opened her eyes from where she'd had them shut tight from the discomfort. Caius's anger touched her heart again, but this time she was aware of concern alongside it. Feeling guilty for snapping at him, she lifted her head to look at him. Serah picked through the fruit bowl, apparently looking for something in particular, while Caius stood with his back to her.

"Uh…" She hesitated. "Caius?"

"What?"

Lightning winced at his tone. "Sorry."

He looked at her, but his eyes were emotionless, and he said nothing.

Serah picked up a smooth bluish fruit with a short black stem and rinsed it off before biting into it. Moving closer to her, she whispered, "He's just worried about you."

"How d'ya figure?"

"His tone of voice is screaming it."

Lightning looked at Caius, finally feeling better after what felt like a minute of dizziness. "Caius, hey, I'm sorry for snapping at you."

No response.

Feeling even more guilty than before, she reached for his heart, but he shut her out. Was he angry with her, or was it something else – possibly something he didn't _want_ her to see?

"Caius Ballad," she said, "look at me."

He did. "Yes?"

"Please forgive me."

His expression did not change.

"You always get under my skin," she muttered. "I blew up. But I am _not_ quitting, not now. Tell you what," she said quickly, defusing the situation before he could say anything, "if I really can't get up tomorrow or just feel horrible, I'll admit you were right, _and_ I'll– I'll–" She wracked her brain, trying to think of some kind of repayment.

He beat her to it. "You and I will do our best not to argue anymore."

She frowned. "_That's_ inevitable."

"Lightning."

Sighing, she nodded. "Alright. It's a deal."

Caius's anger lingered, but it seemed to come from concern. Lightning found it both amusing and perplexing that he would worry about her. Then again, they _had_ been living here for almost six months now, and while they were still struggling to become friends, they were making progress. Besides, a protective nature was probably ingrained in him as a Guardian. Maybe that was part of their training.

"Did you eat?"

He looked blankly at her, then over at the bowl of fruit, selecting a plump pinkish one off the top. "Let's go."

She looked at the fruit. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"You're a _giant_ and _that's_ all you're gonna have?"

"Yes."

"Caius, seriously, your metabolism has to be crazy high. You need more than _that_."

"_Now_ who is worried about whom?"

Lightning bristled at his smug tone, resisting her primal instinct to indulge herself in a little verbal spar. He could certainly keep up with her, and she found that refreshing – Snow had usually shut up after a few sentences, shocked into silence, while most everyone else she tried it with started going in circles after a while.

Caius could think just as fast as she could.

"You're right, we should go," she muttered, and headed for the door.

Caius joined her after a moment, silently peeling the fruit and dropping the fibrous skin on the ground in his wake. If nothing else, at least it was biodegradable.

"I'm really sorry–" she began.

Caius cut her off with a slight chuckle. "This is becoming common for us," he said. "You and I clash over one thing or another, argue, then apologize and move on as if it never happened. Yet I find that it's not hostile, but…"

"It almost feels like we _want _to argue."

He glanced at her. "Indeed."

"Maybe we do."

"The question is 'why'."

"Maybe because all we did in Valhalla was fight, and now we're just doin' what's normal here?" She coughed as she finished and patted her chest. Walking in the fresh air made her feel better, but the chilly wetness hanging in the breeze went right to her joints and made them ache. "Maybe it's my imagination. But we should try not to argue so much in the future. People'll think we're together or something."

He snorted. "I sincerely doubt it."

"You don't know much about modern people, do you?" she said after a second's pause. "You lived outside society and away from normal people so long, you haven't got a clue. Caius, people _will_ think that. That's why I'm serious when I say we need to be careful about arguing in public."

"And if they do? What's the harm?"

She thought about this. "Uh, well… I guess nothing, really. Just embarrassment."

"I see. Then I will do my best."

"You sure?"

"You have my word, Light."

Letting him use that nickname may have been a spur-of-the-moment type of thing, but the more he used, the more she thought it had been a good idea to let him do it. They walked in thoughtful silence for a while.

"So," she said, "why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"Oh, _no_," he said. "Now it's _your_ turn."

"What? Why?"

"I have told you quite enough for one round. I know little of Cocoon. Tell me of your life there."

"Not much to tell."

He hummed quietly. "Try me."

Lightning shivered, teeth chattering, and rubbed her arms. This uniform she wore had long pants and a shirt with sleeves down to the elbows, all of it relatively form-fitting or at least fitted and made of a breathable fabric not unlike cotton. Essentially a woman's Guardian Corps uniform with pants and longer sleeves, it wasn't enough to keep her warm. She really _was_ sick, and now she had her doubts about the day.

"Fine," she said at last. "I grew up in Bodhum. My house stood over the water. My father died when I was really little. He was in the Bodhum Security Regiment, like I ended up being, and got caught in a riot one day. Got himself shot and killed. Barely knew him."

"How unfortunate."

"I guess," she said, and shrugged. "My mom died when I was fifteen from a sickness nobody could diagnose. That left me to raise Serah alone. I became her legal guardian at fifteen. Joined the Security Regiment right outta high school and never looked back."

Caius let the silence linger between them for a time. "Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Lightning."

"Okay, fine. Like I said, there's not much to say. I went to a normal school in a normal town and had an uneventful life until the Pulse Vestige was found _right outside _my hometown." She sighed. "Serah had a more interesting life. I think that sometimes. She found Snow during her summer vacation, fell in love with him soon after, and decided to go to one of the best universities on Cocoon, the big one in Eden. She would've had a great life. The Purge took it away from all of us."

"Gran Pulse has its share of good things," he said. "Some of the landscapes here are beautiful. Have you ever seen a starblossom at night, particularly a green one? Ah–" A smile crept onto his lips, though slight. "It is truly a sight to behold. Then there are, of course, the strawberries."

"_Straw_berries?" Lightning cocked her head. "What're those?"

"I will show you one day. You have my word."

"You'll forget."

"I _always_ keep my word."

Somehow, Lightning didn't doubt him. "I'm holdin' you to it."

* * *

Serah continued gulping down a mix of freshly-chopped fruits, vegetables, and cubes of soft white cheese even as her husband came up behind her and enveloped her in a hug. Still, she couldn't resist the grin that crept onto her face at his oh-so-wonderful warmth and strength. "You're up, finally," she teased, tipping her head back as she chewed to rub it on his shoulder.

"I'm tired, or did you forget?" He walked over to the sink and rinsed out a bowl stacked on the left side.

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

Setting the bowl aside for a moment, Snow walked up to her and placed a hand on her belly. "Has he started moving yet?"

"We don't know that it's a 'he'," she said, "and… well, sort of. Sometimes I feel twitches and stuff. Nothing all that big, not like him kicking or anything. He– _the baby_ actually seems pretty relaxed."

"Can I go to the next ultrasound?"

"I don't see why not."

He rubbed the top of her belly. "Soon I'll see his cute little head…"

"Other end, babe."

He looked at her, then back at the baby. "Oh. Guess that makes more sense."

"Only a little," she said, and laughed quietly.

Patting her belly, he leaned down a bit to kiss her on the lips. Serah, who only saw her husband when he came home late at night these days and was usually asleep when he climbed into bed, welcomed the gesture, encircling him with both arms to deepen it. He drew her closer, careful to give her abdomen enough space, and deepened it further until their lips parted and it became the kind of kiss they'd last shared on the night the life inside her had been conceived.

She had forgotten how much she'd missed his love after he'd left to find her sister.

Unfortunately for them both, time wasn't on their side, and they separated, but she clung to him a moment with her face in his chest. He hugged her close to him. "Don't you worry," he murmured against her hair. "When you get on maternity leave, I'm gonna find every way to get home early to you, I _promise_. You know I keep my word. You know I'll _never_ abandon you."

She smiled. "I'm not worried at all. Really. The harder the road, the bigger the reward at the end."

He nuzzled her hair. "I've got a family to come home to. That's the biggest reward _anyone_ could get out of all the hardship we went through."

Drawing back, she smiled warmly up at him. Snow, her husband, her one and only, so strong and warm and handsome, always there for her and never wavering even when they had their fights. They hadn't had time to have any fights lately; she was alright with that, but kind of missed them too, since the makeup afterward always made the bad memories go away like rainclouds in summer.

"I gotta go," Snow muttered. "Time's a-wastin'."

"I know," she murmured.

"Hey, chin up." He touched her chin with his index finger to tip it up. "We're going to be a real family. Lightning is back home with us. Hope and his dad are workin' on keeping Cocoon from wrecking Pulse. There's a government and a military to keep society goin'. The future's brighter than it's been in years."

"Yeah," she said, grinning now, "it really is."

"Think Lightning's okay?"

At this, Serah shrugged and rolled her eyes. "She's as stubborn as ever and doesn't want to believe it's really going to be as bad as it'll be. If she's laid up in bed, though, I'm not sure if I can stay out of school to take care of her. She will need someone around, but we're getting to the end of the quarter and things are ramping up before break. I'm not sure if–"

He ruffled her hair. "Don't worry, Serah. It is what it is. Everything'll be just fine."

She half-sighed, half-groaned. "Someday."

"You're not plannin' on being a schoolteacher forever anyway, right?"

"It's not bringing in enough to _support_ us forever."

"Alright then. Take it as it comes."

Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, he headed out the door, waving goodbye as he disappeared. Serah stared at the spot where he'd vanished, wishing their moments weren't so brief. Maybe once Rygdea had all the recruits he needed, Snow wouldn't need to keep running around like this. She couldn't remember the last time they had had some good alone time. There was that one weekend in front of their personal television in their bedroom, watching for eight hours a day and snuggled up together, but besides that…

Gathering her things, quickly washing up in the bathroom, and grabbing her coat, she headed outside for the walk to school beneath the overcast sky.

* * *

"You're early." Rygdea stood beside Lebreau and gave the two curious looks.

Caius acknowledged him with a curt nod before glancing at his companion. Lightning looked pale and generally unwell, faint darkness hanging beneath her eyes, but he recognized her determination not to give in to the illness. He could sense her discomfort as extremely faint aches throughout his own body. There was nothing he could do to help her feel better, but he secretly wished there was.

"I see you got the new uniform to fit," the man continued, gazing at Lightning. She looked down at herself. "That's good, means it should work for everyone else. Alright then. Since you're here, might as well get movin'."

Lightning nodded. "I'm ready."

"Not so sure ya are," he said, folding his arms. "You look awful."

Her expression soured. "Not you too."

"Let me guess, you got that weird flu everybody got first winter three years ago, right?"

"She did." Caius moved closer to her as he spoke. "She refuses to rest, though. I must warn you, she will likely not turn up tomorrow."

"Serves her right," Rygdea muttered. Lightning glared at Caius. "Well, you're here now. All fifteen of 'em should turn up at about eight-thirty in that front room. Go out there and wait. And, uh, sorry about the wet paint, they're redoing the floors and insisted on paintin' everythin'. Maqui almost got the wiring finished. Did you hear he's gonna put all the fireworks together when he's done here?"

"Kind of," Lightning said. "He more or less told us that yesterday."

"Good. Get goin'."

Caius started to leave, but hesitated, waiting for Lightning. She seemed to want to say something, but instead just nodded and turned away.

"Oh, and Lightning? Salute's the same as PSICOM and the Guardian Corps."

She brightened and faced him. Raising one arm, she brought it to her chest, hand in a loose fist, so it reached from shoulder to shoulder, palm out. Smirking, she said, "Good, we're still doin' something I remember _how_ to do."

"You bet." He waved a hand. "Get lost."

Together, the two went back out to the front room; Caius glanced over his shoulder to see Rygdea and Lebreau talking quietly now. They seemed to be engrossed in their conversation; he returned his attention to Lightning to see her sit on a newly-installed bench near the front door. He sat beside her, and there was silence for a few minutes as they looked around the room instead of at each other. That wasn't what he wanted – he wanted to speak to her, try and make things better between them. Though he had schemed his entire life, he was willing to let it go if they could just forge the friendship they needed between them.

"Do you sleep well at night?"

He looked at her, noting her quiet, almost shy tone when she spoke to him. They were completely alone, the atrium empty except for scaffolding. While he heard some faint sounds of construction, they were indicative of one or two people tying up loose ends, possibly Maqui and another person doing the wiring.

"In general, yes," he said, and winced inwardly.

"In…" She tilted her head. "Why?"

"It is nothing."

"Caius."

"It is _nothing_."

She frowned slightly at him; he looked away. Silence hung between them again.

"Why do you ask?" he said after a bit.

"Sometimes, if I lay awake long enough, I sense your discomfort. That means I don't always sleep well if you're not sleeping well. Is there a way to, you know, shut it off? I mean, we can't _always_–"

"We are bound together," he said quietly. "There is no way I know of to break that link."

"Oh." She sighed. "Well, I tried."

"My apologies."

"For…?"

"For keeping you awake at night."

"It's fine. I don't always sleep well myself. Too many things on my mind."

"Such as?"

"Just… things. Eternity. My sister. Snow. My unborn nephew, or niece, or whatever. The government. The military. Training these recruits. Making sure Cocoon–"

"There _are_ too many things on your mind," he said, looking back at her. "Clear them. How many of them can you fix?" When she looked at the floor, he sighed. "I understand. I know what it is like to feel as you do."

"Because you lived so long, and schemed for most of those years."

Caius wondered what he could do to truly, _finally_ convince her that he fully and completely intended to uphold his end of the bargain. Would he slip up sometimes? Would he occasionally backtrack? Would he sometimes make his share of mistakes? Of course he would. For all his power and knowledge, he was still human. Cut his skin and he still bled. Hit him too hard and he still bruised. Drop him onto concrete and his spine still shattered. While his body pulled itself back together as long as the Heart of Chaos was still intact, the fact of the matter was, he still hurt and felt and behaved like a man.

Taking a breath, he reached out with one hand and gently took hers, squeezing it, giving it a gentle tug to make her look at him.

"Lightning, I _promise_ that you, your family, and the rest of the world shall _never_ come to harm by my hand again."

She stared as if not comprehending.

Knowing this was a gesture somewhat improper for the relationship they had, he nevertheless didn't shy away and held her gaze. Her hand felt so _cold_, making him instinctively cover her skin a little more, trying to give her some of his warmth. This woman had been his adversary once, lunging at him, cutting into him, kicking him into the sea or off a roof, throwing him across silent Valhalla, tossing insults, fighting and never giving up. She had always been strong in his eyes, strong and beautiful.

To see her ill and cold was something that bothered him tremendously.

Her pretty blue eyes fixed on his. She was cold as though her body were struggling just to keep what warmth it had.

"I believe you, Caius Ballad."

Gazing into her eyes, he willed his body to give up more of its warmth to her, trying to get her hand to stop feeling like it did. To him, this gesture meant he was serious, and for him to make a promise meant he was prepared to _die_ before he broke it. Would she understand?

Unaware of how the silence had lingered between them, he only noticed when he felt her gently squeeze his fingers and quickly released her, flooding with embarrassment.

Lightning chuckled quietly. "It's alright."

He felt warm. "I didn't–"

"Caius, come on, relax."

"That was inappropriate," he muttered, looking away, letting his hair hide his face. It didn't matter, since she could feel his embarrassment, but at least he kept his dignity, sort of.

"Maybe," she said, "but if you keep thinking about it, you'll make it worse. Move on. It's not a big deal."

"Lightning–"

"Stop that," she said firmly. Still ashamed, he looked at her again. "Don't be like this. You're fine."

"_You_ are not. You're quite cold."

She frowned. "Am I?"

Knowing it probably wasn't the best follow-up gesture after holding her hand, he gathered his courage and placed his fingers against her forehead. The skin felt hot. Coupled with her cold extremities, he _knew_ beyond any doubt she was getting worse.

"Not here," he said. "You're feverish."

She groaned. "Great."

"Lightning, consider leaving this until another time. You need your rest."

"We're here now. I'm not going anywhere."

"Lightning–"

"Caius, don't nag me anymore about it. It's done."

He withdrew and sat in silence.

Eventually, as the ninth hour of the morning came, fifteen recruits came into the atrium, some in pairs, others by themselves, some in small groups, all of them staggered. They then stood around and talked quietly for a bit.

Lightning took a breath. "Ready?"

"If you are."

Standing, she tugged on her uniform. "How do I look?" she murmured.

He subconsciously bit his tongue.

"Be honest, you."

Hesitating for a moment, he finally stood, moving closer to her, then bending a bit toward her shoulder. "Just fine," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "A bit pale, tired, and certainly sickly, but fine. Ah, except for–" Reaching for her collar and lapels, he used one hand to straighten them out. "There. _Now_ it's perfect."

"Thanks. Let's get this done."

Together, they stepped forward toward the recruits. Chatting amongst themselves, they didn't seem to notice their approach until one of them suddenly stood at attention. This spread to the others, and soon all of them had shut up and were now facing the sharp-dressed woman beside him. Silently, Caius moved so that he stood right beside her with his hands at the small of his back. All fifteen recruits looked nervously between them, obviously unnerved by both the woman in her military uniform and the man in his tribal wear.

"Well." Lightning folded her arms. "Good morning."

Mumbled greetings rose from each of them.

"_This_ is the bunch I gotta whip into shape?" She grunted and shook her head. "Line up."

One by one, they figured out what she wanted and shuffled into place. There were several women, but most of them were men, some short, some tall, some thin, some pudgy, and one looking rather heavy for his modest height. All of them looked nervous in different ways, though several hid it better than others.

"You're here because you signed up, right?" she asked.

They nodded. One said, "Pretty much."

"Good. I'm Lightning. Well, that's not my _name_, but that's what everyone calls me." She raised a hand to Caius's shoulder. It still felt cold, but not as much as before. "This is Caius. He will be helping me train all of you. He's not from Cocoon, but a tribe some distance from here. Born and raised on Pulse. He knows the land and what you'll need to do to toughen up for this terrain."

Curious glances fell to him; he gazed steadily back at them.

"First thing's first, though – you gotta know the basics. I was in the Bodhum Security Regiment, but I know this is all a little different. It's up to me to get all of _you_ taken care of. Your commander is Snow Villiers, and you might run into him later. Clear?"

They nodded.

"You may address me as 'ma'am', 'sergeant', or 'Lightning'. Anything else is disrespectful. Clear?"

They nodded again.

"Can't hear your heads rattling."

"Yes, ma'am," they said, though not together. She smirked.

"Good. Caius, you'll call by his name, or 'sir'. Same rules apply. He's your superior. Don't forget that. He's also a warrior. Don't forget that either."

They looked at him with a note more respect; he gazed back.

"Alright," she said suddenly, interrupting their fascination, "if there are no objections – and I better not hear a single one – let's get a few more basics taken care of."

For the rest of the morning, Lightning drilled them on the basics of the New Bodhum Security Regiment as she knew it from the folder of papers they had studied together the previous night. He still felt her discomfort, hearing her voice become a bit more hoarse as she went on, but admired her tenacity. Once she had laid the groundwork for how this group would be functioning, she had them line up with her at the front and him bringing up the rear, and together they headed outside to run as they began the physical part of their training.

* * *

Inside the old Academy building, Rygdea and Snow bent over a holographic map shining on the surface of the table as Lebreau sat beside them to examine it as well. Snow stood opposite Lebreau, having recognized that she and his superior seemed to be enjoying each other's company some, if their occasional asides were any indication. She had already mentioned she was considering dropping out to focus on support, which would set her in a different branch of the military, and Rygdea had agreed. Snow had wondered why, and she said she felt she could be more helpful where there currently weren't enough people. Snow, knowing most recruits wanted to be on the frontlines, couldn't help but agree.

This, though, had quickly made all three of them forget about recruits as they focused on the map.

"It's probably nothing," Rygdea muttered.

"Is it ever?" Lebreau said.

Snow touched the red mark on the map. A small bit of text came up, giving him the location's name. "Shadowtown, huh?" he murmured. "Guess that kind of makes sense. It's small, on the other side of Cocoon, and not exactly a big mark on any map. I usually forget it's even out there. What do you know. A frontier town, huh?"

"Somethin' like that." Rygdea tapped his fingers on the table.

"Should we make it our target?"

"It's up to you, commander," the other man said, tapping Snow's rank insignia. Since he hadn't officially earned the rank through the usual channels, it looked different than a regular commander's insignia and had the symbol of the government stamped on it. "I'm pretty much just a liason at this point. As far as movin' troops from here, that's up to you. We don't have a presence over there yet."

"Those fifteen new guys." Snow frowned. "In eight weeks, they'll be all done and ready to ship out. I can have half of them moved over there."

"Good thinkin', but we're still goin' there for our scouting mission in the spring."

"Okay." Snow rubbed his other hand on his forehead. "We'll take seven of 'em with us and drop 'em off there. Me, Caius… eh, probably some guys from Blitz Squadron… We'll go there together. Whatever's going on, we can take care of it. And like you said, it's probably nothing."

"Munitions don't just lose ten pounds in transit, Snow," Lebreau told him. "That's significant."

"Maybe somethin' fell off."

"It's best to make sure. Shadowtown was built by Cocoon loyalists."

Snow felt his blood run a little cold, remembering the discussion about the fal'Cie loyalists and how it had come up several times over the past few weeks. While he doubted people would resort to force to try and keep Cocoon aloft through any means possible, the fact of the matter was, it was common knowledge the pillar couldn't stay up forever and no one wanted to take any chances. The fal'Cie had held Cocoon up before – why not again?

"Spring will be here in a few months. We'll go once things warm up." Snow straightened. "You two, try not to fret so much. This is _my_ problem, not yours. Relax."

"Shadowtown isn't your jurisdiction," Rygdea pointed out.

"Maybe, but if I start splittin' people from our regiment to handle that area, it will be one day."

Rygdea started to say more, but nodded instead. The three went back to examining the map and trying to figure out the route they would be taking for the mission in spring, but Snow's mind kept going back to the fal'Cie of Cocoon, the memory of their home plummeting and being cradled by crystal, and wondered who would be mad enough to try and bring the fal'Cie back into the lives of man.

* * *

_Look at that - more plot! Much of this will become more significant later down the line, so stay tuned to see exactly how! I plan on uploading another chapter either this weekend or early next week. It just depends. Thanks for reading, all the feedback, and your continued patience, it is most appreciated._


	14. Feels Like Home

**14 Feels Like Home**

Friday morning was partly sunny and cool, but not as much as it had been. The air felt dry on his skin and smelled sweet, like rain-soaked soil. The front door to the Villiers household was open halfway; Caius slipped through the gap and hesitated a moment to let his vision adjust to the comparatively dim interior. Serah was already up, sitting on the couch at the back of the room with her eyes on the television, but she gave him a small wave as she sipped from a clear plastic cup of bluish liquid.

He nodded an acknowledgement to her, looking around. Snow opened the door to the master bedroom and came out in his uniform, though he looked a bit disheveled and exhausted. Still, he greeted Caius with a chipper "mornin'" before making his way to the coffeepot.

"How was training?" Serah asked.

It took a moment for Caius to realize she was speaking to _him_. "It went very well," he said. "All fifteen recruits were exhausted by the time all was said and done. Though, so was Lightning."

"Yeah, she walked in here like a zombie," Snow said.

"Had some soup and went to bed," Serah added.

Caius frowned. "Is she up yet?"

"Haven't seen her."

Concerned now, he turned his attention inward, toward the Heart of Chaos and the bonds the two of them shared. He had already told Lightning that what they shared were their "hearts" – if he told her the truth, about chaos and what this bond of theirs truly was, he wasn't sure how she would react. There was a reason, a _very_ good reason, why they could feel and touch one another across vast distances. In truth, even if they were separated by not only space, but time as well, he suspected they could still touch.

He felt her discomfort, her pain, her exhaustion, and knew the illness had finally taken its toll.

He excused himself and headed for her bedroom.

The door was closed, and no sound came from within. Raising a hand, he knocked gently, then held his breath and listened. Though faint, he _did_ hear something, but felt it more as a shameful tug on his heart. He slowly opened the door and peered inside.

The only light came from the lone window on the far wall – a murky, gray-gold shaft of sunlight that didn't fall on the bedridden figure lying with her back to him, pink hair disheveled, tangled, and spread out over the pillow behind her head. Sympathy immediately flooded him; he moved into the room and shut the door, leaning on it a moment to gaze down at her. Save for the rise and fall of her chest with her breathing, she didn't move, the covers a mess but pulled up to her face all the same.

"Lightning," he murmured. He had warned her. Rygdea had warned her in his own way. Serah had tried to warn her. Now, she paid the price for her arrogant tenacity.

She moaned softly, shifting position beneath the covers. Caius frowned at her, wondering why she had insisted on doing her job even though the exertion would cost her many days of sick leave. Despite his sympathy, he felt, more than anything else, a sense of disgust and anger that she would do this to herself. The woman was independent and stubborn and strong, and all of it had finally caught up with her. Now the recruits would need additional time, as he would most likely have to train them without her, and she would be out of sick leave before long. How many days did she have saved up? Not enough, he suspected.

Then she groaned, sounding as though she was in pain, and his anger immediately fizzled out. Moving to her side, he gazed awkwardly down at her, wanting to do something but not sure what. In the early years, Yeul had gotten this same virus – everyone did, even himself when he was very young – and he had dutifully taken care of her whenever he had the opportunity.

Lightning was his companion, but what level of care did their hard-to-define relationship dictate?

"Lightning?"

The woman grunted softly, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes were dull, dark circles beneath them, hair an absolute mess, fabric wrinkles pressed into her skin from lying in one position all morning. "Hey," she said, but it came out more as a shameful croak than her usual strong voice.

He gave her a severe look. "What did I tell you?"

"You were right," she muttered.

He hummed softly in his throat and placed both hands on his hips. "Look at how pathetic you are. Unfortunate."

"You're not helping."

Hearing her sound so weak and helpless made him realize he was on the verge of being too hard on her, so he sighed and carefully controlled his tone, softening it and lowering his voice. "You will be like this for a few days at least," he said. "You may become severely nauseated, but typically nothing comes of it. You will also be feverish. Aches and pains are the primary source of discomfort."

"They are now," she said weakly.

Wanting to comfort her, more out of his ingrained protective instinct than anything else, he restrained himself from reaching out for her. Already he had pushed the boundaries of their relationship the previous morning, and although she had dismissed his embarrassment, he dare not push his luck. The norms of Cocoon's society were different from his tribal culture, and he had to learn to remember that.

"I will see if anyone can remain here to care for you," he said. "I cannot – I must continue training the recruits."

"Fine by myself, you know."

"Inadvisable. If not watched carefully, it _can_ take a harsh turn for the worst. It is best if you're not left here on your own regardless. Trust me."

She drew the covers up to cover her eyes. "Sure."

"What you need _most_ is rest."

She whimpered softly when she tried to shift position again, a sound that threatened to punch a neat hole in one of the few remaining walls he still had up between them. He moved to the other side of her bed to face her directly and saw one of her hands just visible beyond the covers, the fingers pale and nail beds nearly white. Reaching down, he gently tucked it beneath the covers, closer to her body.

"Coulda done it," she murmured.

He straightened. "Perhaps, but now you don't need to." Hesitating, he gazed down at her. What more could he do for her? He had a job to do and other things to take care of. While it would not be the same, training the recruits without her, it still had to be done. Eight weeks was not a long time in the grand scheme of things. "I must be going," he said quietly. "I will make sure someone's here for you."

She murmured, "Okay."

Half-wishing he could stay with her, he moved away without much enthusiasm, gently opening and closing the door before looking up to see Snow and Serah still in the main room.

"Well?" Serah asked.

Caius frowned and moved closer. "She's not doing well," he said. "She will need someone to stay and watch her. I have training I need to finish. Snow, you have work to do as well. Can you stay, Serah, just for today? It will be less difficult to manage caring for her on the weekend."

Serah crossed her legs. "Can't _you_?"

"No, I must–"

"I doubt I can get a substitute on such short notice," Serah interrupted, "but I can try, I guess. I know you have to be training the recruits, I get that. I know it's important. But you're _supposed_ to be doing it together, and if you can't, then what's the point?" Grunting, she stood, though with a hand to her back. "Here, I'll call the school and see if they can get anyone. If they can, I'll stay. If not, _you_ are."

Caius looked helplessly at Snow.

"Don't worry, big guy," the blond assured him. "Worst comes to worst, I got the authority to give you the day off if you need to stay and take care of her." As Serah walked over to the landline telephone and picked up the handset, he leaned on the counter and rubbed his chin. "I get it, though, we need those fifteen guys. If you really think you can train them alone, start prayin' there's a substitute."

Caius looked carefully at him. "I _do_ worry about her," he admitted quietly. "This… illness. It concerns me."

Snow half-smiled. "It's okay. She's your friend."

Serah began talking to someone on the phone, and both men immediately held their breaths to listen. She and the other person exchanged greetings and a brief "how're you doing" before Serah got the conversation under control and explained her situation, calling Lightning's condition "the doom virus".

"Okay," Serah said. "Okay. Mmm-hmm. Got it. I'll let– okay. Yeah, it's– yeah, it's… it _should_ be on my desk or in one of the drawers. I can get someone to run– yeah. Yup, that's it. Okay. Thanks so much. I'm hoping this'll be the only time. Thanks for understanding. Mmm-hmm. Bye." And she hung up.

"Found one?" Snow said.

Serah nodded. "Sure did. Well, Caius, you won this round. But don't think I'm lettin' you off easy." She gave him a very pointed, somewhat severe look, which confused him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You and Lightning are supposed to be companions, and you even told us you'd be trying to spend more time with her," she reminded him. "What's better for bonding than caring for her a bit while she's sick? It can't hurt. Besides, it'll give you something to do."

Caius grunted. "I am merely her friend and little else."

"Friends worry about friends, and you're definitely worried about her." She raised a hand to place her index finger on the gap between her eyebrows. "Those frown lines tell me everything I need to know. You're worried about her being sick and trying to hide it."

He looked her in the eye. "Perhaps, but it still–"

"Give up," she told him. "I'm sorry you're human and have _feelings_."

He bristled at the insinuation of her words… before suddenly realizing he was being defensive and making himself look guiltier. He _was_ worried, but the concern would have to wait. He would go to work, do his job, and try not to spend _too_ much time with her. While it was true they needed to bond, something as intimate as caring for her while she was sick was a dangerous path indeed. Caius, as he saw it, had done far too much in his attempt to wreck the happiness of others to deserve his own. Besides, if he let her into his life proper, he could lose control, and it would only get his heart broken again – should he ever let himself slip, even once, she would never return his love.

And _that_ was the most dangerous path of all.

"Serah," he said, trying to be honest without giving _everything_ away, "I would prefer not to spend too much one-on-one time with her if I can. Please don't ask me why, just… try to understand."

Her brow furrowed. "Caius?"

"Please."

The woman who resembled her sister in so many ways finally nodded. "Alright," she said. "Go ahead and go to work. I'll stay here with her. But I _do_ expect you to take care of her when you get back. The rest of us have things we need to be doing in the evening, okay?"

He nodded. "I understand."

She smiled at him. It was refreshing to see, and made him feel a little better.

"Will you be okay here alone?" Snow asked.

Serah turned her smile to him. "Of course, silly bear," she told him, grinning now. "I'm okay at work every day, aren't I? Besides, I'm only four, almost five months along. The baby's not gonna be born until at least late spring or so. Don't be so paranoid!"

"It's my only child!"

"Mine, too!"

Caius couldn't help but watch in amusement.

"I gotta get going." Snow plucked a fruit out of the fruit bowl, rinsed it off, and bit into it as he gave his wife a quick hug. "See ya tonight, okay?" he said around a mouthful.

Serah sighed. "Don't be late. And _don't_ talk with your mouth full."

The blond waved goodbye before striding out the door; Serah yawned and wandered over to the fridge. Caius stayed where he was, thoughts wandering off toward the bedridden Lightning. Part of him wanted to go back in there and stay with her for a bit, but it was a very small part and easily controlled. The problem was that the two of them had not directly defined the boundaries of their relationship. If they had, he wouldn't be in this position.

"Caius. You listening?"

"Hmm?" Surprised, he looked at her. "My apologies. Did you say something?"

She looked knowingly at him. "Thinking about her?"

He grunted. "Somewhat."

Serah nodded, but didn't pursue the subject. "I know how to take care of her," she said. "In fact, there's even an established way to make sure the illness doesn't last a real long time. By Monday morning, she should be doing a lot better. Don't worry, okay?"

"Serah," he said, "remember that she was my enemy for a very long time. There is no reason for me–"

"But you _are_. Don't keep denying it, Caius."

Thinking this was the best time to leave, he merely turned away. "I must be going," he said, and headed for the entrance.

"Caius."

He paused. "Yes, Serah?"

"I promise I'll take good care of her, for _both_ of us."

Wanting to throw himself into his work and forget about everything, including these tumultuous feelings in his heart that moment, he nodded and walked out into the cloudy sunshine. All of those thoughts, feelings, worries, flashes of anger and bitterness, would have to wait. Once she was lucid enough to have a discussion with him, they were going to put a stop to this once and for all.

* * *

Serah opened the door to her sister's room without knocking, leaning in to see how she was. Lightning was on her side with her hair splayed out everywhere, back to the door, and appeared to be asleep if her heavy breathing was any indication. Serah hesitated, wondering if she should wake her sister. Though she wouldn't feel like it, she had to eat and keep herself hydrated to help rid herself of the virus's toxins. She also had to stand up and move around to keep her blood flowing, or else everything became stagnant. Knowing Lightning, she would be happy to do so, but her body would do everything it could to prevent that.

"Hey, sis," Serah said, and knocked on the door now that it was open. Lightning's breathing changed and she moved a little beneath the covers.

"Guh," was her sister's response.

Serah choked on her giggle and sat on the bed. "Feel awful yet?"

The other woman groaned.

Reaching out, Serah stroked her hair, straightening out some of the kinks. Her poor sister had survived going up against giant robots, fal'Cie, Cie'th, feral creatures, Eidolons, militarized beasts, and a fully-powered Caius Ballad in his comfortable, chaotic Valhalla. Now, here she was, getting trounced by a _bug_. Honestly, it was a little difficult not to laugh, even if she did honestly feel bad for her.

"You need to eat," Serah said. "I'll be here today. Caius went to keep training the recruits. I'll bring you some food, and I expect you to eat it. Got it, missy?"

Lightning groaned.

"Oh, don't be like that. You can sit up. C'mon."

Another groan.

"I know it sucks, sis, but you can do it."

It took a bit of time, some painful writhing, and a small bit of involuntary whimpering from her normally strong and no-nonsense sister, but finally Lightning sat up and looked at Serah, dreary-eyed.

"Good." Serah moved over to the window and opened it. "Stay sitting up. I'll be right back. _Don't lay down_."

Lightning said nothing, sulking.

Going back to the kitchen, Serah chose as many whole and fibrous foods as she could, including native fruits and vegetables, along with a freshly-made blue juice she still didn't know the name of that Lebreau had made only the previous day. It was sticky and smelled faintly like flowers. Combining everything as best as she could, even cutting several of the foods into strips and cubes to make it easier for her sister to chew, swallow, and digest, she arranged it on a plate, grabbed a bottle of the blue juice, and returned to her.

"Here, eat," she said, and waved the plate and bottle under Lightning's chin. The woman gave her a look that was certainly one of sulking before taking the offering.

Serah sat down again and watched as Lightning picked through the foods, squeezing a few with her fingertips before picking them up, popping them in her mouth, and chewing slowly and carefully. Neither of them spoke; Lightning ate very slowly, obviously in great discomfort, and finished half the plate and the entire bottle before grunting and setting everything aside.

"Okay," Serah said gently, "_now_ you can lay down and rest."

Lightning did just that; Serah pulled the covers up to her chin and tucked them around her very carefully.

"Caius will take care of you from now on."

For the first time, Lightning's blue eyes were suddenly quite focused. "Huh?" she mumbled.

Serah smirked. "You heard me."

"Oh, _no_…"

"Oh, _yes_. I already told him he would. He's _your_ eternal companion – I'm just your mortal sister." Serah shushed her before she could say anything else and stood. "Now, digest and sleep. I'll put the rest of your food right here on your nightstand so you can get to it when you need to, okay? I'll be in the living room. I'll come check on you once in a while, don't you worry."

Lightning closed her eyes and gave a lengthy groan. Serah couldn't tell what for.

"Hey, Lightning?"

Her sister opened her eyes, if hesitantly.

"I'm really happy you're back with us, and safe."

Just visible above the very top of the covers were the vestiges of a smile on Lightning's face. Returning it, Serah patted her hand, even though it was buried by the covers, before turning away and closing the door. Yawning and rubbing her back where the pregnancy made it hurt, she went back to the kitchen, scooped up a bowl of ice cream, and plunked down in front of the television.

* * *

Caius at least had the decency of waiting until the house grew quiet again (once Snow had gone to bed and some visitors had passed through to say hello) before finally, reluctantly, admitting his concern for Lightning. For most of the day, he'd had no bad feelings about her at all. In the late afternoon, though, it seemed as though her sickness got worse, sending aches and pains into his joints if he reached out for her. Somehow managing to pull himself together long enough focus on work, he still didn't get done until six o'clock that evening, long after the sun had disappeared.

"Serah–"

"Her fever went up some." Serah looked up at him from the television.

Caius stared at her, then quietly cleared his throat, stuttering softly for a moment. "How did you know?"

She smiled knowingly at him. "You can't fool me."

"Hmm?"

"It's all over your face."

"I fail to see what you're referring to."

"Of course you do," she said matter-of-factly. "It's on your _face_. You generally can't see your _face_ without a mirror. No, I mean, that you're worried. Those frown lines betray you, Caius."

He sighed. "I've… never been good at hiding my feelings."

Shifting position on the couch, she crossed her arms over her belly. Caius looked at it, thinking of the implications for the future that as-yet-unborn life carried. He had seen many infant Yeuls in the past and had cared for them all at some time or another. His concern was seeing an infant again, though the name would not be Yeul, and how he would react. Would it send him over the edge?

But then he shook that thought away. By the time the child was born, it shouldn't be a problem for him anymore.

"What's up?"

"Hmm?"

"You shook your head."

He shifted his weight and looked at the door to Lightning's bedroom. "Merely thinking. That's all."

Serah nodded. "Go see her."

Caius didn't look at her as he moved toward the bedroom, gently knocking on the closed door, then waiting to hear or feel some sort of response. All he got was a weak acknowledgement in his heart; frowning, he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. "Lightning?" he murmured.

The covers were down around her waist and the window partially open, telling him she was feverish. Moving to her side, he looked awkwardly down at her, not sure what to do.

She looked up at him. "Hey, you."

Hearing her speak made him feel a little better. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Any better?"

She gave a weak shrug, but a smile played at the corners of her lips all the same. "You were right," she muttered, turning her head a little toward him. "You really were. Sorry it took… me getting to this point to figure…"

Hearing her grow weaker, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "You need your rest."

"Been sleepin' all day."

"You need more, it seems. Don't be ashamed."

Her eyelids lowered, but didn't close. "Serah says… you'll be taking… care of me… this weekend?"

"Don't speak. Save your strength."

"Yes… or no."

He grunted. "Yes. Now _sleep_."

She hummed softly, eyes closing. "Can't make me," she pointed out. "But, if… it'll… make you… stop…"

He gently squeezed her shoulder, knowing the illness made every nerve in her body hypersensitive. "It shall," he said quietly. "I will check on you later. You will also see me tomorrow morning." Gently rubbing the joint with his thumb, he hesitated before stepping back and letting go. "Sleep well."

She grunted softly. "I will."

He backed out of the room and hesitated again once the door was closed. Reaching out with his heart, he brushed up against hers, trying to feel her. Though she was still rather closed off from him, he could still feel her as she weakly reached out for him as well. For a moment, their hearts touched and entwined, just long enough for him to give her a little warmth and comfort. It was enough, for when he finally retreated, she seemed more at peace than before.

"All good?" Serah still sat in front of the television with a bowl of pale-orange-colored ice cream.

He nodded. "She's fine, and resting. I told her I'd check on her later."

She nodded. "Door's locked at night."

He nodded. "I shall not need it."

Serah looked carefully at him. "Really?"

"I can feel her." Raising one hand, he clasped it into a fist and held it over his half of the Heart. "When the Heart of Chaos was split between us, it created a link, a… bond, one could say, unlike any other."

She looked curious. "Really?"

"According to Pulsian belief, all humans have a piece of chaos within them. We call it the 'soul'." He hesitated, then chuckled quietly. "It is man's attempt to make sense of that which is so far beyond us that we can never fully grasp it, not in this world."

"So… it's your _souls_ that're linked, not just your hearts."

Caius hesitated again, much longer this time, and met her gaze. "Yes."

Something flicked across Serah's features. "Does _she_ know? Just how deep this bond goes, I mean, or what it really means for you two? Does she–" She paused and took a breath; he waited patiently. "Does she _know_ what this could mean for your _relationship_?"

He sighed. "No, she does not, and I'm not …" Uncertain, he stuttered a moment, then gathered himself once more and said, "I _must_ tell her someday, I know, but…" Trailing off, he looked at the floor.

"That's why you don't want to spend time with her, isn't it?"

He looked up. "Serah?"

"I get it. You're worried that because of your special bond, it'd be too easy to let things slip, to get to know each other really well and… well, get _really_ close to her, if you know what I mean."

"I'm not ignorant of the possibility."

"It wouldn't be _bad_."

"No, but considering the past we've had, it may not be wisest." Thinking back to the previous day and what they had done before training the new recruits, he turned his back and cringed a little. Even if the future that awaited them dictated that something stronger than friendship could rightfully form between them, he wasn't sure it would be the best thing for them to do. Lightning hadn't yet had the pain of separation from people she dearly loved. She hadn't yet had to deal with anything he had. She just didn't _know_ what it could mean.

"Caius, don't be so full of yourself."

"I'm–" He faced her. "I am _not_ full of myself."

"You're being melodramatic about a relationship with my _sister_," she pointed out. "Yes, you've got some rough spots to smooth out and some serious talking left to do, but, _seriously_, Caius. It's not as bad as you think it is. And this is coming from _me_. You tried to _kill_ me. _Several times_!"

He stared at her. "I'm not melodramatic."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "that must've been another Caius talking poetically about Yeul dying over and over. Several times. Yeah. A doppelganger. Must've been."

"I was _not_–" His shoulders slumped. "Alright, fine."

"Okay. Then you see my point."

"More or less."

"Good. Now, go get some rest. You look exhausted."

Nodding, he glanced at the closed bedroom door, sighed, and headed outside without looking back. The sun had gone down long ago, leaving the world shrouded in darkness and the thick clouds overhead. The sand was packed tight underfoot; he hesitated halfway between the inn and the house to look up at the sky. Between the clouds, he could see the sky, dark blue, with stars twinkling in the firmament.

With one hand over his half of the Heart, he stood there, losing track of time, and gazed up in silent wonder.

* * *

_From now on, I'll probably update on Fridays or the weekends for the sake of convenience as life gets busier. Thanks for reading!_


	15. Virtue

_**15 Virtue**_

With nothing better to do except lay in bed curled up in a pained ball with her eyes shut and body wallowing in self-pity, Lightning put her foggy but still-pretty-sharp mind to thought instead.

It was the middle of the night, or early in the morning, she wasn't sure which. All was silent save for a breeze meandering past her window. Caius lingered on the fringes of her heart, asleep if his complete inactivity were any indication, and if she reached out a bit more, she almost felt as though she could discern the patterns of his thoughts as he slept. Was he dreaming? What would a fourteen-century-year-old man dream about?

She tried to quiet her mind enough to sleep again. The pain had abruptly awoken her about an hour ago, if her reckoning was anywhere near correct, and caused her to lie awake ever since. In that moment, she'd thought she could feel another presence – that of Caius – reaching out to her, but he'd withdrawn just as quickly, and so she wondered if she'd imagined it.

Perhaps.

As she tried to shift position, a jolt of pain flashed up her spine and made everything hurt. She froze, waiting for it to pass. Every nerve in her body was hypersensitive; every movement made her want to scream, more from frustration than pain. Why hadn't she listened to Caius? Why did she have to prove how tough she was, even now? And more than that, thinking of him touching her and gazing into her eyes filled her with shame while also making her spine tingle. There was something about that serious stare, those ancient eyes filled with centuries of memories, the calluses on his skin, the way he _moved_, that intrigued her.

Simply put, he was attractive, and Lightning wasn't sure what to make of that. She'd never been attracted to a man before. Wait, no, that was a lie – there was a PSICOM bombardier that had been a friend of her mother's many years ago, and she and her sister had both developed crushes on him. Being way of their league, though, they had left it at that. There were also attractive men in the Guardian Corps, some of which she'd seen in the locker rooms (averting her eyes if she saw more than she could ever want to).

Caius was different. Maybe because she was grown up and settled into a familiar routine that didn't involve saving the world or fighting for her life every day. Perhaps because he always got under her skin without trying, though he hadn't done it so much lately. Everything from the way he moved to the way he gazed at her to the comforting touch of his heart to hers drew her to him. This was the first time she'd admitted being attracted to him, even privately – even the sound of his _voice_ when he'd checked on her yesterday had simultaneously made her defensive and made her want to ask him to never _stop_ speaking to her. They were forming a bond, she knew, and that was a good thing, but still, she wondered what kind of bond it was.

Not so long ago, Caius had stood before her, broken and defeated, accepting her offer to be by his side forever now that he knew it was what Yeul had wanted. He would not go back on a promise to her, no matter how much he may wish it. A promise made to both her and Yeul, still unbroken… what did that mean for the future? What did it mean for the people they were now? And what did it mean for _them_?

She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head, ignoring the pain the movement gave her. It felt like someone had her in a vise and tightened it until it was on the verge of crushing her bones, but she didn't care.

She wondered, briefly, if his presence would help her sleep.

Snarling like a feral cat, she pulled the pillow down tighter as if trying to suffocate herself. Thoughts like _those_ had to stop _right this instant_.

Eventually, she fell asleep, waking to muddy light that told her the sun was up. Ignoring the pain and the stiffness of her joints, she sat up, yawning and stretching. Something popped; she yelped and hunched back over again. So much for getting up and moving around. She suspected standing on both feet would be like standing on pins and needles, too, so she reluctantly kept her feet under the sheets.

A few minutes passed before she heard a soft knock at the door. Caius's familiar presence touched her heart, a bit hesitant; groaning, she forced herself to turn around, lying back down. She wasn't' feeling much better than the previous day. "Come in," she said.

The tall, dark-haired Pulsian warrior stepped into the room, his height and clothing making him look out of place in the bright décor of the bedroom. She tugged the sheets up to her shoulders, feeling a bit exposed in her two-piece nightclothes that were still more modest than her old Guardian Corps uniform. He closed the door and leaned back on it, hands clasped at his back and pressed against the door.

"Yeah?" she muttered.

"You slept in." He sounded amused; she clamped down on the not-unpleasant stir the sound of his voice gave her, expression contorting into one she hoped looked severe. "How did you sleep last night?"

"You should know."

He hummed softly and glanced at the floor. "Yes, I… do." Pause. "Lightning, are you… how are you feeling?"

She groaned. "Like yesterday."

"Aches, nerve pains, headache, nauseous, by any chance?"

She groaned softly. "Yeah."

There was visible hesitation when he moved forward, though so slight she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't known his every movement so well. Extending a hand, he touched her forehead, skin very cool against hers, so much so that it pained her. After a second, she winced and pulled away, pulling the covers up to her chin. He drew back with a perfectly neutral expression.

"I must go see my people," he said, "but I promise to be back soon. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"Not really," she murmured.

A smirk tugged at his lips as both amusement and empathy sparkled in his eyes. "Try to go back to sleep," he said gently. "I will tell Serah to watch you until I return. If you need me for anything, you know how to reach me. Don't be afraid to do so."

A moment of longing twisted inside her, surprising her with its intensity. With as much pain as she was in, for some reason she just didn't want to be left alone. At the same time, she really just wanted him to leave so that she could think. Locked in the resulting confusion – an emotional conflict that stung her heart as much as the virus stung her cells – she only stared at him.

Expression changing, he said, "Will you be alright?"

"I–" She looked away. "Yeah."

She heard him draw a breath before sighing. "When you are well again, we must talk. There are things you _must_ be made aware of."

"Okay."

He stood there longer than she expected, turning away only when she looked back at him. His stride was purposeful, telling her he was eager to get moving.

She dozed off, awakened by the sound of her door opening. Caius always knocked, so it had to be Serah, since she was the only one who came in if she felt like it. She carried a greenish-yellow apple and a sandwich that smelled like fresh-cut hot peppers, both on a plate. Curious, Lightning lifted her head.

"These peppers are amazing," she said, setting the plate down. Lightning sat up and sniffed the sandwich. "It'll speed up the detox process."

Eagerly, pain and all, Lightning took a bite out of the sandwich and chewed. It was spiced meat, dark bread, sliced grilled peppers, a leafy green vegetable, and dark green sprouts. The combination hit her in the face with flavor like a brick wrapped in heaven, and she began eating the sandwich with relish while Serah looked on.

"Okay, guess you like it." Serah giggled as Lightning finally slowed halfway through, chewing carefully. All the peppers combined for a crazy burst of flavor that burned her tongue. Swallowing, she sucked on her tongue to try and get the oils off as quickly as possible. Finally, she got the burning down to a manageable level and took more careful bites this time.

"Thanks," she said. The oils opened up her sinuses; suddenly, she could breathe without a problem.

"Need anything else?" Serah asked.

Lightning shook her head. "This is better than I was hoping for," she said with a smile. "Question, though – how long does it take to get over this virus?"

"Depends," Serah said. "Some of us only had the worst of it for a day or two and got over it within a week. Others had the worst of it for well over a week. It just depends. Though, I have to say, those of us who got it for the shortest amount of time, that was after we figured out how to get rid of it faster."

Lightning yawned. "Alright."

"Did Caius come see you?"

"This morning? Yeah."

Serah folded her arms; Lightning frowned at her. There was something her sister wasn't telling her, but the woman was just as stubborn as she was. Signs of worry lingered in her eyes, although mischief was there, too. Both joy and sorrow were visible, but what for? Concerned, she opened her mouth to ask, then thought better of it. If she didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't. The time wasn't right.

"Want something to read?"

Lightning looked curiously at her. Serah definitely wasn't telling her something. "Sure. What've you got?"

"Magazines."

"Sure. I'll take anything."

Serah left then, coming back with a small stack of slick-paper magazines of all genres, or so it seemed. She left them on the nightstand, then slipped out, telling her to call if she needed anything. Lightning picked up one magazine, a news one printed out of the pillar settlement, and slowly flipped through it.

Toward midday, the strain of sitting up got to her and, full of good food, she set the magazines aside and snuggled down into the covers again.

The next time she awoke, it was to the sound of someone knocking. She weakly told whoever it was to "come in"; Serah slipped into the room. In both hands, she held a tall mug with a top. Steam escaped from a slit. Serah set the mug down on the nightstand.

"I was told this'll help," she said.

Groggy, Lightning had some trouble getting her eyes to stay open. A sweet, rich, and bitter smell came from the mug. Her mouth watered slightly in response. "What is it?" she mumbled.

"Tea."

"What kind?"

Serah shrugged, picking up the now-empty plate. "He didn't say."

_Now_ she was awake. "He who?"

"Uh… Caius."

Lightning gazed at the brew in curiosity and wariness. This was _Caius's_ idea?

"He got it from his people," Serah said quietly. "Apparently it'll take care of the virus. Also told me it… took some convincing to get them to let him take it, I don't know–" She shrugged helplessly. "You'll have to ask him when you get the chance. But, uh, please try it? Before I go back out?" Pause. "He wants to know how you feel afterward."

"Why didn't he bring it himself, then?"

"Don't know. He refused."

"_Refused_?" Lightning didn't have that much energy, sapped of the majority of it because of this flu, but somehow the mention of Caius's infamous and rather brainless stubbornness gave her just the jolt she needed.

"I know. Weird, huh?"

"That is–" Lightning narrowed her eyes. "Serah, you know something. What is it?"

"Lightning, try the tea before I pour it down your throat."

Making a face at her sister, she reluctantly obeyed. The mug didn't weigh that much, but it put a strain on her nerves that made her arm hurt. Lifting the mug to her lips, she inhaled. The smells reminded her of black coffee, sun-baked clay, and fresh, wild herbs. They struck her tongue like electricity. Pressing it to her lower lip, she tipped it back and took a sip. The tea was _strong_, hitting her like her namesake, eyes watering slightly, but the heat of it felt _good_ down her throat as it tumbled into her stomach, warming her inside and out.

She coughed. "_Wow_."

Serah tipped her head. "How's it?"

"Tell him…" She eagerly took another sip. "…it's _perfect_."

Serah left again, and Lightning reveled in the tea, settling back to enjoy its strangeness. The combination of all the herbs opened up her sinuses. The heat soothed her aches and pains. The smells calmed her headache. She sipped the tea now, letting its smooth texture, with the occasional piece of herb, flow across her tongue.

Then she slowed, and stopped.

Caius had brought this to her. He had wrenched it away from his people – an isolationist society, as far as she could tell from her brief visit – to help make her well again. He had traveled to the settlement and back again in less than a day to get it to her, and she couldn't imagine it having been easy for him to do. He had _returned_, moreover, to be here as a stranger, a man who didn't really belong here, in this society. He had already made it fairly clear, without directly stating it, that he would prefer to be with his people. And yet, his promise remained unbroken.

She hugged the tea closer to her chest, where its radiant heat warmed her sternum. She could afford to be kinder to him. In fact, he deserved to be thanked in person.

_Caius_. In her heart, she whispered his name, feeling along the threads tying their hearts together to discover he was out in the living room, close enough that his presence was easy to find. _Caius, if you can hear me_– She wanted to tell him he was alright here and that she had accepted his presence. Calling out to him, reaching out with all she had, she tried to get his attention.

As she came up to a door, one of the very last still standing, separating her from his deepest heart, she felt him stop her with a touch, but not push her away. The sensation of _him_ cascaded over her; longing came again within her, so strong that it made her want to cry for an instant. The fires of his heart were coals now, still hot but not threatening to turn her to ash, soothing rather than scorching. As his presence grew stronger, she knew he was walking toward her, and a moment later, he knocked on the door.

Lightning took a breath and exhaled her feelings. What was so _inviting_ about him? Her heart, surging at the surface and flowing so gently far below, seemed to be drawn to his fire. It terrified her, made her feel _alive_, and she was scared, in a _good_ way, and couldn't explain it.

"Come in."

He stepped in, and at that moment they both released their holds on each other. Once again, he was just Caius, just a man and nothing more, gazing at her as if she were just a normal woman.

"You called for me?"

She set the empty mug down on the nightstand. "The tea. Thanks. I feel better."

He seemed pleased, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I had hoped it would help. That is a particular blend made just for this illness. Yes," he added at her surprised look, "it _is_ that common. Everyone gets it, Light, and it is just one of those illnesses that have become a part of living on Pulse."

She listened to the cadence of his voice, noting the shy undertone and uncertain foundation as he spoke. It was almost as if he were… _ashamed_.

"Caius, what's wrong?"

His brow furrowed, briefly. "What do you mean?"

"You've been avoiding me, and …" She groaned softly. The surge of energy from earlier was wearing off, and the tea was putting her to sleep. The aches, though, were soothed for now, but her throat hurt. "Please tell me, before this tea knocks me out again. C'mon."

"It is nothing."

"Don't be like th–" She whimpered softly and carefully controlled her voice. The strain was a bit much. "Caius, just tell me… please." She settled back, energy slipping away.

"Alright." He placed both hands on his hips. "Thursday, when… when you and I were–" Embarrassment reached her heart as he paused, cleared his throat, and continued. "You and I had… an issue. An overstepping. Before the recruits came, after we saw Rygdea… when we…"

He didn't need to go on. "You're… bothered by the… That's it? _That's_ what's been bothering you?"

He looked at the floor. "It has."

Lightning wanted to laugh, but then she thought about it. Was he worried he had upset her, or demonstrated an interest that wasn't there? "Caius," she said, very seriously, "it was minor. Let it go."

"No. It is _not_ minor."

Lightning caught the tautness of his voice. Something had upset him, and he was controlling it, but not easily and not as well as he hoped. "What's the rest of it?"

"Rest of it?"

"What else is on your mind that's bothering you?"

"You seem to have quite a bit of energy for being so ill," he murmured, but didn't pursue the matter. "Light, I… It's imperative. We _must_ set some boundaries."

"Boundaries." Pause. "Wait, are–"

"But you must rest now."

Suddenly uneasy, she felt the sensation of his presence turn to ice. She knew what he meant. She knew he wanted boundaries for their _relationship_. And she understood. After so much fighting and all that had happened, eternal companions or not, to become anything more would be too difficult and carry too much emotional baggage. Caius had centuries of pain and grief tied to him. She had her share of scars. To become anything more would be like an unlit match and kerosene: inviting disaster.

"Fine with me," she said. "Let's make it simple: no sustained eye contact, no touching, and…" Groaning softly, she settled down into the sheets a little and rubbed the back of her hand across her eye. "Don't… uh, hang around me without…" She yawned. "…without other people."

Concern, relief, and anxiety touched her heart. It was him, and when she looked up, his face was expressionless, his dark eyes unreadable. "As you wish," he said.

She closed her eyes. "Thanks."

The silence that followed felt awkward enough to make her reopen her eyes. She found him gazing back at her with the same serious look, but the moment she met his eyes directly, he looked away, then turned away and headed for the door. She sighed and closed her eyes again.

"Sleep well, Lightning."

Lightning hung on to the softness of his tone, liking how different it sounded from the voice he had always used in their war, liking the sweetness so faintly permeating the words, liking how he enunciated every word, yet how every one flowed into the other with the smoothness of honey.

* * *

_I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, folks. The next chapter will be longer, but I need to essentially rewrite the entire thing because I don't like how it looks now, so I might be a week late or so. But this story won't be abandoned, don't worry, so even if it's a little while, I'll come back to it again eventually. Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! I know I never respond to any of you personally, but know that I am grateful for my readers, your kind words, and your constructive criticism. Thank you!_


	16. The Weight of the Future

**_16 The Weight of the Future_**

Lightning woke abruptly in the evening with every inch of her body hurting. It was hard to breathe. Crying out, very softly, she tried to get her body to behave itself. She felt cold all over. Chills made every bone shake. She had fallen asleep in completely the wrong position, and now her joints had stiffened and her muscles grown taut. All she could do was wait for it to pass.

It was dark outside. She heard the television in the other room and low voices. Hopefully, no one had heard her cry out – _no one_, including the man who didn't need to be present to feel her pain. That, she knew, was a vain hope, and she could feel his worry weighing on her heart as the pain grew a little less. Resigning herself to her fate, she forced herself to stop whimpering, reminding herself she was a warrior, not a tenderfoot recruit. It seemed that a virus could do more damage to her than days of battle.

She told him to "come in" before he even knocked, and a moment later, he appeared, just inside the door. The shadows blurred his silhouette, as if he were one of them. The only way she could tell he had come closer was when she heard his footsteps approach. A hand touched her forehead; she tensed in shock at how _warm_ his skin felt, rather than cold. Had her fever become chills?

"Light." His voice was stern, but weighed down with worry instead of anger. "Is everything alright?"

She squeezed her eyes tight shut. "It _hurts_."

"What does?"

"_Everything_."

The touch of his hand became all five fingers resting on her forehead. His heart reached out to her, only instead of searching her emotions, he seemed to be feeling out her physical state. Deeply ashamed and mildly flattered, she just lay there and waited.

"It will pass." He spoke in a soft, silky smooth tone. "It may not seem like it now, but it shall."

The man touching her used to be her enemy. The man touching her could still be very dangerous. _The man touching her definitely shouldn't be touching her_. Yet no matter how she tried, she couldn't summon the strength or will to push him away, and when she moved, her body screamed in protest. Forced to lie still, she shut her eyes tight.

"You feel very cold."

Anger, mostly at herself, burned inside her. If she'd had the strength, she would have pushed him away and forced him to create some distance between them. She thought of all the stupid things she'd let him do – touching her and taking care of her and getting her to _smile_ at him. That mistake – there wasn't another fitting word, really – before they'd gone to train the recruits should've been a warning. _Caius Ballad_ was a world-destroying terror. Sure, he was trying to make up for all he'd done, but to forget what he'd been would be _stupid_. How long had it been? Not long enough,. For all she knew, he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security.

Most of all, she hated _herself_ for enjoying his touch.

His hand left her forehead, letting her breathe normally again. The window slid shut; he returned to her side and leaned on the bed – or was he sitting on it? Either way, he didn't belong there. Or did he? She wasn't sure. She was just endlessly confused and hoped he couldn't sense it.

"Is that better?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "Thanks."

She felt him withdraw a little from her heart. "If there is nothing else you need from me, then I shall go."

"I'm fine."

His emotional state flattened out, becoming absolutely neutral. She summoned the energy to open her eyes to see him gazing down at her, though the darkness hid his expression. Once again, she didn't want to be left alone, but at the same time, she just wanted him to go away. It seemed that the two halves of who she was were at war with one another, and her common sense was nothing but a referee to the action, forced to sit on the sidelines because neither one would listen to her.

When he shifted his weight as if to straighten and leave, she decided to ask just one simple question. "Why–" Her voice cracked and her throat felt raw and hot.

The neutrality flickered, and the tiniest ounce of concern bubbled up and broke the surface.

She finally managed to say, "Why… worry?"

He stayed sitting on the bed, but said nothing for nearly a full minute. During that silence, she tried not to let her shame and anger bleed out. She didn't understand what was going on. How could two people who had been enemies for so long go this far in only a few months? Was it because they shared their existences and it could not be helped? Was it the lull of normal life, allowing them to break free of the lives they had lived for so very long? She just didn't understand, and it both scared her and angered her. She had to be careful. She _had_ to be–

"You remind me of Yeul, whenever she fell ill."

She was actually startled by his response, not sure if that were reassuring, or just a little bit sick. Yeul still had hold of his heart, it seemed.

"She would be laid up in bed for days every time she caught this disease, and I would help care for her along with the doctors and the elders. There were times when I would stay up for hours into the night just because she could not sleep for the pain." He sighed. "But you are not Yeul. You are not the girl I swore to protect to my dying day. You are a grown woman, and my equal."

Shyness and anxiety flickered on his emotional plane, reminding her of the dual spikes of a heartbeat on a monitor. It helped reassure her, but also made her feel even _more_ anxious, if that were possible.

"I remind you… of her," she mumbled, "so you watch… over me."

"If that's what you want to believe."

She groaned and turned her face into her pillow, shivering hard enough to make her teeth chatter. The bed returned to its normal position as Caius apparently moved away. His emotions remained unreadable as he headed for the door and opened it. For a moment, he hesitated, but nothing changed, emotionally, within him, and so he continued out and closed the door behind him.

Lightning wondered how on Pulse they were ever going to enact these much-talked-about boundaries effectively.

* * *

In the middle of the night, somewhere around one, Serah woke with a start, wondering what could have dredged her out of her dreamless sleep. In the early moments of waking, grogginess and confusion clouded her mind. She shook her head to clear it and blinked into the darkness. Something felt off, different, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was. The night was not unpleasantly cold but also not too hot, the air flowing fresh in from across the ocean, the taste of salt on her tongue when she breathed it in.

Then she realized her husband wasn't snoring.

"Snow," she whispered, and rolled over. He lay on his stomach, lower body twisted slightly to the side, one hand gripping the pillow beside his head. Biting her lip, she reached out and took his hand with one of hers, using the other to stroke his hair. It felt a little rough, as though he had been tossing and turning. "Why are you awake? You need your rest, commander."

His skin felt cold and a little clammy. Slowly, he turned his head enough to make sure he didn't go talking into his pillow when he spoke. "I'm alright," he whispered.

"No, you're not." As carefully as she could, she scooted closer to him and half-draped her body over his, still gently stroking his hair. "Something's bothering you. Please tell me what it is."

Snow's body itself felt tense and too warm, whereas his limbs and appendages cooled the further from his body they went. In the darkness, her eyes slowly adjusted to the faint moonlight streaming in from the window, and she could make out his blue eyes, shadowed by his features, gazing back into hers. She recognized the furrows, worried lines, and shadows all too well. She had seen them before, when she had first told him she was a l'Cie. He was trying to hide them, but failing to do so, as he usually did.

"Snow, come on, tell me."

Then he rolled onto his back and placed his other hand on her cheek. The size of it practically dwarfed her face; she kind of loved that feeling of being protected and loved by something so much bigger and more powerful than she, but capable all the same of a love for her that had no boundaries. This man would die for her. She knew that without even having to ask, and sometimes, that knowledge frightened her.

"It's Shadowtown," he said, and closed his eyes. "Another shipment disappeared this morning. An inspection team was sent to investigate, but they didn't turn anything up. It's like the place is a black hole, a selective one. Things seem pretty normal most of the time, but–" He cut himself off, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "I haven't been able to sleep for about an hour now. Did I wake you?"

"Only because you weren't snoring," she said, a little teasingly. "Shadowtown's keeping you awake?"

There was a small pause. "Yeah," he said.

"Can't you think about anything else?"

The hand he rubbed across his eyes now went to her belly. "You mean like this? Our future?" He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, then dropped that hand away. "It's hard to believe, huh? After all we went through, we're finally going to have a real family of our own. And–" He pressed his hand into her flesh a little and squeezed slightly with his fingertips. "–your sister's fine with it."

She smiled and laid a hand over his. "Of course she is. You earned this, you know."

"Guess I could think about this little guy."

"He, or she, is worth it."

Snow chuckled softly. "Wonder what kind of world he'll grow up in." She sensed the happiness dissipate a little as his hand relaxed slightly. "I hope not one of war, or civil unrest, or political problems. We went through so much, and it looks like Cocoon falling was only the beginning." His hand moved from her belly, but she hung onto it and rested her head on his shoulder. "Lightning will live to see it, whatever happens."

"Mmm." Serah closed her eyes. "What should we call him, or her?"

"Oh, the baby?" Pause. "Any ideas?"

"I've got nothing."

"Hey, that's a pretty good one."

She couldn't help but giggle quietly. "There's always something simple, like Cid, or Bob."

"Could call him 'Blitz'."

"We're not naming him after a military maneuver my sister pretty much invented." She opened her eyes enough to see his shadowy outline. "And what if it's a girl? I don't want to spoil myself, but I also want to cover all my bases, so to speak, just in case. It should be something feminine."

"Rainbow."

She couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. "Rainbow? You're not for real, right?"

She felt him shrug slightly. "It gets better," he murmured. Stroking her hair with one hand, he cleared his throat and said, "Rainbow Shine Villiers, daughter of Snow and Serah Villiers, niece of Claire 'Lightning' Farron, of the heroic families of Cocoon's last days. How's that?"

For a moment, she smiled, kind of liking the idea of the "heroic family". The Farrons and the Villiers – her being a member of both families – _were_ heroes in their own way. She had been the catalyst to start the revolution, though mostly by accident, while Lightning had faced impossible odds to save her sister and her home, and her husband had been ready to wreck _everything_ if it meant it would avert disaster. His steadfast belief in a better future and happier times had driven the group in the midst of despair, and when he had failed, Lightning had quickly bolstered him back up. Only through that, alongside the steadfast determination of the other four, did the world survive its doom. Even now, Lightning had sacrificed her mortality to be with a man she had warred with for too long, for the sole purpose of keeping disaster at bay.

They _were_ heroic families, and she felt proud to be a member of both.

"That's a name so sparkly, it could be packaged and sold as glitter," she murmured, but good-naturedly. "I think we should stick to something a little more down-to-earth, don't you?"

"Eden's a pretty name. It'd be a good reminder."

Serah smiled wider. "That _is_ a pretty name. But I don't know, I'll have to think about it. _We'll_ have to think about it, really. There's plenty of time. But for now…" Her smile fading, she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him more carefully. "…are you going to be able to sleep?"

His body still felt tense against hers, and she saw him frown. "I'm not sure."

Snuggling up closer, she kissed him. One of his hands went around to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, but even as he did, she sensed that the tenseness had not gone out of his body just yet. After a few moments, she pulled away and instead rested her cheek against his.

"I wish I could help," she whispered.

He wrapped both arms around her waist. "I don't need you to worry, okay? You focus on taking care of our little one. Don't you worry a bit about what's going on around us. You don't have to be afraid. I'm your hero, or did you forget?" She felt him smile slightly. "I'll always protect you, and keep you safe."

"Noel promised to do that, too."

"Yeah, he looked after you, didn't he? And he did a fine job." He sighed. "See? There will _always_ be someone to protect our little family, whether it's me, or you, or our big, scary sister. And Caius is on our side. I'm sure he'll help out when he can, too, you just watch."

Serah shifted her weight. "Does that mean he and Lightning will see Noel again someday?"

"Don't see why not. As long as Noel's parents still got together, then he was still born, and the future he's living in is a whole lot brighter than the old one. Disaster averted. Yeah…" He hugged her tighter. "…someday, they _will_ see him again, I'm sure of it."

A comfortable silence fell, and Snow's body felt more relaxed.

"Do you think she can handle everything for a couple of weeks in my stead?" he whispered, gently nuzzling her cheek, one hand sliding down her spine to the small of her back, where it kind of ached, and when he applied a little pressure with his fingertips, she suddenly felt better.

Serah nodded slightly, slipping off to lay on the bed proper once again. The grogginess returned, and sleep beckoned. "I'm sure she can. She's my sister, after all."

* * *

Lightning slept hard that night and spent the rest of the weekend resting. Another batch of the tea swept away much of her discomfort, leaving aching sinuses and joints, a sore throat, and her body stiff, but she was at last able to stand on her own two feet with only a little effort and a swimming head. After a minute to adjust to the change in pressure that came with the movement, she picked out fresh clothes and shuffled into the shower. The hot water did wonders for her aching body, the steam clearing her sinuses.

Afterward, she stayed up long enough to put together a small meal and another cup of tea, then went back to bed and slept most of the day away.

Early Tuesday morning, she awoke to a soft knock at her door and a familiar presence at her heart. With some difficulty, she dragged herself up to a sitting position. Her sinuses ached with the change of pressure before dulling again. "Come on in," she said, and knew who it was.

"You're up." Once more, his usual expressionless countenance greeted her, but his tone felt warm as he spoke.

"More or less," she murmured. "Still achy and sore."

"You should get up at every opportunity. You must keep your blood flowing to get rid of the toxins and keep your immune system strong. You do not want to relapse." Hesitating, he stepped a little further into the room and shut the door. "Do you need anything?"

She hummed quietly. "I think I'm alright. Thanks."

He nodded. "Of course." Again, he hesitated, longer this time, before turning away.

"Caius."

He hesitated yet again. "Yes, Lightning?"

"About those boundaries…" Now it was her turn to hesitate, and she had trouble articulating her thoughts. Their discussion had not exactly weighed on her mind, but his presence – lingering alongside hers, the threads connecting them together, all the walls no longer intact – seemed to be there, always. The weight of it, impossible to ignore, challenged her to keep their war, their grudge, their old ways, in mind, challenged her to think of him as her enemy, and it was a battle she seemed destined to lose. "You… you, uh–"

"I realize that I broke them." He looked at her. "I apologize for that transgression."

She touched her forehead. "Don't worry about me so much."

"It is implicit in our agreement."

"No, it's not, Caius."

"On the contrary. You are my eternal companion. And, Lightning–" He faced her, one hand on the door, lips parting, but then he stopped, apparently changing his mind, and left the room. She stared after him, wishing she understood, before her discomfort once more sent her to sleep.

Through the rest of the week, she felt as though she waded in and out of a strange dreamscape, sometimes waking enough to understand what went on around her, and yet sometimes only enough to capture a hazy image of her sister or someone else she knew greeting her and leaving her a meal or another cup of the strong tea. She likened it to flipping pages in a book, lingering only a moment on each, and life flicked by, day by day. Sometimes she got up and took a shower, or went outside onto the sand to stretch her legs, but the cool weather drove her quickly enough back inside despite her best efforts.

Caius was always the one she encountered the most during her dreamlike wanderings, and while his expression remained carefully controlled and eternally neutral, his voice gave away what he could not so easily hide. A hand on her heart called her attention to his presence, and the silky smooth sound of his voice made her aches and pains feel so much farther away. The energy to maintain her self-disgust slipped away sometimes; she learned to listen to a friendly voice that wove intricate patterns of words and told her things she didn't always understand, heart always in hiding, yet tentatively trying to reach out to her.

It was Friday evening during the sunset that she decided to go out onto the sand and brave the coolness for the sake of the golden sky and glittering sand. It still felt warm against her skin; she patted down a small area of sun-warmed sand to plunk herself down in and gaze out at the water from. A dog trotted across the shallows with a lolling tongue and fluffy wagging tail, pursuing a girl probably no older than twelve who ran happily through the waves. Further down the beach, a man eyed them carefully – her father, she guessed.

Except for those three, however, she was, for once, alone on the sands.

The salty breeze blew in her face and tried to lull her to sleep. When she settled back a little to enjoy the sensations of the world around her, she very nearly gave in.

As the dog and the girl frolicked in the water, Lightning sensed her companion's presence, reaching out to her, telling her he approached. In Valhalla, this had meant bolting to her feet and facing him with sword and shield in hand, but here… here, she wasn't so sure what it meant.

Maybe nothing. Perhaps everything.

She didn't speak when he sat down an arm's length from her to her right, but she did look at him to find him looking over at her. In the sunset light, he looked just as intimidating and every bit the great warrior he had always looked to her, but the golden light softened his features and made the normally sharp-edged shadows blend one into the other in a much less anxiety-inducing way. Without his armor – he wore a primarily black outfit with white accents and just a few touches of purple here and there – he looked even less like her enemy.

Maybe trying to see him as such was, frankly, dumb.

"You are doing much better, I see," he said, and looked her in the eye when he spoke. Her warning to him – _no sustained eye contact_ – went ignored as she returned the gesture. "I am glad to know that, for you, the illness was not so vicious."

"Oh, really?" She cocked an eyebrow. "I was in a lot of pain, Caius. I wouldn't say it wasn't vicious."

His lips twitched. "I _did_ say not _so_ vicious, Light."

"Of course." She looked away at the sunset. Even at an arm's length, his presence felt like being beside a fire made entirely of coals – a touch too warm, but… oddly soothing. Two sides raged in her, one insisting that she close her heart, the other whispering it was fine to leave it open. Caught in the middle once again, she stayed where she was.

The comfortable, slightly-too-warm silence settled over them like a blanket.

"The plans have changed."

She looked at him. "Hmm?"

"Rygdea decided that we will focus our efforts on Shadowtown rather than going into the wilderness. Something is going on out there, and we would all like to know what." Feeling his gaze on her, she met it, suddenly feeling very shy about it. "You will remain here and cover Snow's duties. We may be gone for a week or more, but we all know you can do whatever is asked of you."

"You barely know me," she pointed out. "What makes you so certain?"

His lips formed something halfway between a smirk and a genuine smile. "I _do_ know you, just as you know me better than you believe. We spent a long time in Valhalla." The smirk faded, leaving only the smile, and the softness of it made her like it more than she probably should. "Hardly a difficult task for a great warrior. You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for."

The almost uncharacteristic smile warmed his features like nothing she had ever seen before. "You think so, huh?"

"More than think. I know."

She gave him a faint smile in return. "You're such a kiss-up."

Chuckling softly, he looked away at the water now. The breeze stirred his hair and the beads carefully braided into it, white feathers twitching slightly where they had been secured in different spots than before. A hand fell to the sand and closed around it, picking up a small handful, and she sensed a flicker of sadness.

She tipped her head. "Caius?"

And just like that, his emotional state turned neutral. "I was merely thinking."

She wanted to ask him to elaborate. She wanted to ask what was wrong. Yet her lips would not form the words, and the side of her that still insisted on keeping her distance – at odds with what she had promised, in line with the boundaries she had set, and in blatant violation of this moment – silenced her voice.

Instead, she said, "You wanted to tell me something once I was better. I'm better enough now. Tell me."

His emotions locked up. "Someday, perhaps."

"No, now."

"This is not a good time."

"You're going to tell me sooner or later," she pointed out, and twisted to look at him. A slight frown darkened his features. "Just spit it out already."

There was barely a pause between the end of her sentence and the beginning of his, and when he spoke, his voice sounded as strong as ever, but was also rather quiet. "The nature of chaos is foreign to us, and as humans, we cannot fully understand it. All we know is that it has something to do with our souls – the part of us that makes us who we are, makes us unique. It is so far above us that we can only scratch the surface."

She nodded. "Yeah, so?"

"Consider the Heart of Chaos we now share. If chaos has to do with the very _essence_ of who we are, then what do _you_ think the Heart actually binds together?"

Lightning comprehended a lot quicker than she would have liked, staring at him until he looked back. This _had_ to be something he hadn't told her at the beginning, not something he had only figured out recently. That realization – that frustration – of knowing he had held back some key fact of the relationship they now shared, that she had shared in so willingly, made her temper flare like a stormy sea, threatening to dash upon his coals and put them out.

"Are you saying that _we_ are bound together, Caius?" she said, almost breathlessly. "That it's not just our emotions or feelings, it– it's actually… _us_?"

The emotions in his eyes were difficult to read, but she felt them as a flare of his fiery heart. "The binding is not complete," he said. "We are two separate people in two separate bodies. While we _are_ bound, we have done none of the things to make the joining complete, and so it hangs in midair with many frays, incomplete. With the way our relationship will be, it will be incomplete forever."

As he spoke, she understood, and her temper decreased a little. Everything made sense now – her longing, her desire to have him with her, her crazy wish that he would talk gently to her and spend time with her and smile at her, the way his emotions collided with hers. He was almost – not quite – a part of who she was, and would be half of her if they ever chose to do the "things" he spoke of.

"As long as I retain my individuality, I can live with that."

He tilted his head. "You never know what the future may bring, Lightning. But now you know why we must be so careful around one another."

Yes, she did know. She understood. A touch, a look, a word spoken just the right way at just the right time, and those two frayed wholes and halves would demand to be united as one, and it might be difficult to stop the fall. To ever want someone in her life or fall in love, she would need to be coerced or otherwise coaxed into it. She knew herself enough to know _that_. Having never been in a relationship and never having wanted one, she found it easy to come to that conclusion.

"Then let's try and keep those boundaries strong," she said. "It's more important than ever."

A spike of sadness emerged from his heart, making her look at him again. "Yes," he said, and though his face stayed neutral and he carefully withdrew from her heart, making it almost impossible to read him, she still felt weighed down by the centuries in his eyes – centuries that enthralled her and made her want to ask a thousand questions. He had seen and done so much, and not everything he had done had been for blood or battle. No doubt he had seen good things, too, and _she_ wanted to know about them.

"But that doesn't change the bargain," she said. "I'm still your companion, and you can still come to me when you need me. Don't hesitate."

"The same goes for you," he said quietly. "If ever you need me, I am here."

So different from the earth-shattering warrior of Valhalla. So very much the same ancient, sad, mysterious man, and yet so different. Had the salt air gotten in his blood? Had the breeze cooled his fire? What made him smile now, and why did she find it so hard to hold the memory of his blade on her throat?

Though she wasn't sure how to respond, she didn't have to feel his emotions to know that the words he spoke were meant wholeheartedly, and she was grateful.

* * *

_Sorry about the two-week wait! Like I said at the end of the last chapter, I wasn't happy with how this one was written originally, so I spent the past two weeks off-and-on rewriting it. It's changed significantly, and for the better, since I now use it to kind of highlight Lightning's concerns - is she drawn to Caius because of who he is, or is it all to be blamed on the Heart itself? I know the answer, but she doesn't, and it's that worry that's making her so confused. However, there are some hints to the true answer scattered around this chapter, if you can pick them out. Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following!_


	17. Eight Weeks

_**17 Eight Weeks**_

By Thursday, Lightning had regained her strength enough to go back to work. When Snow got up that morning, at about five o' clock so that he had enough time to take a shower and eat a decent breakfast, he came out of the shower to find Lightning in the kitchen, eating a meal of her own. It was a simple meal, he could see, made up of a bowl of wheat and oat-cluster cereal with a fruit cut over it. She stood with her back to the fridge, facing the front entrance, coughing slightly every so often.

"Mornin', sis," he said, making sure his voice sounded warm in spite of his exhaustion. It was only Monday, and already he was tired, just from thinking about what was ahead for the week. In a little over seven weeks, the recruits would be done training, and it would be time to head out for the real deal. "How're you feelin'?"

She hummed and shrugged. "Not great, but good enough."

He walked over to the fridge. "Cool." Opening the fridge, he dug around in the mysterious sealed containers stacked on the middle shelf.

"Hey, you," he heard Lightning say. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Caius come in, stretching both arms overhead as he did, and give her a slight nod. The blond returned to raiding the fridge. Grabbing one of the boxes at random, he peeled back the lid a bit and took a sniff. It wasn't something he could identify, so he shoved it back in with the others and kept looking. Box of eggs, meat patties, unidentified green stuff…

Caius appeared in his peripheral vision, taking a fruit out of the bowl.

"You're here early," Lightning said.

"I am," he said.

Silence followed, and Snow suspected they were glaring at each other. "Why?" she continued. Snow grabbed a different box and peeled the top back. It was pasta in sauce with meatballs; he decided it was good enough and went over to the microwave – a device so old that the hinges squeaked in pain whenever they moved, but not so old that it just didn't work anymore.

"I woke up early," Caius told her. "I could not go back to sleep, so I got up and came here instead." Snow heard him toss the fruit from one hand to the other a couple of times, then walk over to the fridge and open it.

Snow yawned, punching in a number to heat the pasta. "Uh, Caius?"

"Yes?"

"You know the inn has food, right? You don't have to come here and raid _our_ fridge."

"I do know that, yes." Snow looked to see him poking through the same containers he had just been examining a moment ago. "This is the first time I've done it, however. I haven't the faintest idea what could be in here."

"Well…" Snow grinned sheepishly. "…neither do I."

Caius paused, pulling out a sealed plastic bag full of pale brown… something. "What is this?"

"That? That's, uh…" Snow frowned and moved over to the other man's side, taking the bag from him. "Well, uh, I think… that's, uh– that's–" He weighed it, squeezed it, then cautiously opened it and sniffed it. "It's either rice paste or… shredded chocobo."

Caius cocked an eyebrow at him. "You can't tell?"

"Wish I could."

Caius gave a thoughtful "hmm" before taking the bag and shoving it back into the fridge. "This looks better," he murmured, pulling out a sealed bag of chocobo tenders. One look at the ingredients list, though, and all he had to say was "that's a bit frightening" before returning it. Snow, amused, hid his grin. Caius had already admitted his dislike of processed foods, so no doubt something with near-unpronounceable ingredients was as unappetizing as a wad of plastic smothered in fry sauce.

At that image, his stomach churned and nausea briefly overcame him.

"Ah, here we are." Caius located a large bowl with a snap-on lid full of handmade salad. Lebreau had prepared it a few days ago and left it there for anyone to eat; Serah had added bits of Pulsian fruits, vegetables, and chopped nuts to the mix, creating a wildly flavorful concoction. "Much better."

Lightning chuckled. "Salad for breakfast?"

Caius set the bowl on the counter; Snow took his food out of the microwave as it beeped. "When I was living with my people, our breakfasts were always very fresh," he said. "This was actually not an uncommon morning meal."

"Cereal for me," she muttered.

Snow removed the lid and stirred the pasta with a fork. "You're exciting."

"My life's exciting enough without weird food," she told him, taking another bite. Chewing for a moment, she looked at Caius, who seemed quite content with his medium-sized portion of salad for breakfast. Snow thought he saw a tiny quirk of her lips, telling him she was trying not to smile, but he wasn't sure. "I'm pretty tired, though."

Caius looked at her. "Why did you not rest longer?"

"I'm okay," she said, "really."

"Are you sure?"

"Caius, really, I'm fine."

Snow looked between them curiously, though without being obvious about it – using his peripheral vision to do it – as he stabbed his pasta. Whatever was going on between them, he wasn't about to pry. It was none of his business, anyway. Besides, he had enough on his mind already. This morning, he had to go to the old Academy building, as always, but there was a good chance he'd end up heading out to the pillar settlement, one so dominated by the fast-growing skeleton of the new Academy building and becoming so rapidly populated with students that the name had officially become "Academia". Everyone knew it was silly, but no one was really surprised the name had stuck.

"What are you to do today?" Caius asked.

Snow told him about the possibility of going to Academia. "I'm the big guy in charge of the local military now," he said. "Rygdea went back to the government. I'm a commander, officially. That means I gotta do lots of stuff I don't wanna do and stuff that makes me sleepy just thinkin' about." He punctuated that with a groan, then took a fork-full of pasta and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing.

Caius nodded. "Perhaps Light and I have the easy job."

Snow stopped chewing. "'Light'?"

"Her nickname," the other man said, indicating Lightning with a tilt of the head.

Snow chewed some more as he looked at his sister-in-law, then swallowed and said, "You gave him permission to call you 'Light'?"

She nodded.

"You never gave _me_ permission to call you 'Light'."

"You would anyway," she pointed out.

"But I _don't_."

"What's your point, Snow?"

He hesitated. What was his point? That Lightning was allowing Caius Ballad, the man who had sought to destroy their timeline and, by extension, their world, to call her by the nickname she'd previously only allowed Hope to call her by? The question was why she was allowing him to. Then again, maybe he was overthinking things.

"Don't have one," he admitted. "Never mind."

She stared at him a moment.

There was stretch of silence. All three of them finished their meals without saying another word; Snow took all the dishes and dropped them in the sink. He took the liberty of at least rinsing them off before stacking them on the right side. The pile was beginning to grow; briefly, he wondered if he should be nice and wash them before he left, but then he considered how long that might take. Might as well do it later.

"Six thirty," he muttered. He had to be there to meet Rygdea by seven, while Caius and Lightning didn't have to be there until eight. "Uh, Light…ning?"

"You _can_ call me 'Light', if it makes you feel better."

He took a deep breath. "Look, uh, if he has me run off to Academia, I'm not sure when I'll get back." Letting his brow furrow a tiny bit, he considered her for a moment. She wasn't feeling a hundred percent, he could tell, and she already would be in charge for however long he and the others would be gone in a few weeks. Still, he figured she could handle a night. "If I leave before two, I won't be back 'til late. Everything closes up at six. Can you watch everythin' until then if that happens?"

There was no hesitation before she nodded. "Sure I can."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She looked at Caius. "You head back at four-thirty if that–"

He cut her off by laughing at her. "You honestly think I would abandon you, regardless of the circumstances? You may wish to think again."

Snow rather liked the fact that he had laughed at her. Her reaction – a startled and annoyed expression – almost got him to chuckle, but he carefully reined it in. If he laughed, she would glare at him too, and then she'd really be in a poor mood. Best to let it simmer. Besides, Caius was used to her not only yelling at him, but engaging in frequent deadly warfare with him. Thankfully, he could more than take it.

"What, you'll stay however long I do?"

"Is that so shocking?"

She opened and closed her mouth.

Caius looked smug. "As I expected. My apologies, Light, but you are, shall we say, stuck with me."

She groaned. "Caius, don't be such a–"

"_Anyway_," Snow broke in, "I know I haven't told you the kind of stuff you'll be doin' while I'm gone. You'll need to keep everyone coordinated. Nothin' like what I usually do, just keeping everyone in line. Some stuff'll still get funneled to me because I'm the only one authorized to okay them. Rygdea will have someone else on hand to help you out, too. Just arrange patrols, check mission statuses, keep everythin' flowing, you know the drill. You've been in the military for a few years."

She nodded. "I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"Good," he said, smiling. "It's time to go. We got a little over twenty minutes. Uh, unless you wanna come over later or somethin'. Up to you."

"It's best if we go now," Lightning told him, finishing her breakfast and putting the dishes in the sink, rinsing them, then stacking them with the others. "That way, if Rygdea has you run off to Academia, we'll know right away, and I can get more prepared. That's the idea, at least."

"Hey." He walked over to her and patted her shoulder. "You'll do great, I know it."

She pursed her lips. "Not countin' on it."

Snow risked her wrath by rubbing a hand through her hair – a further reminder that he was tall and, compared to him, she was short. Her reaction was a throaty growl as she tried to smooth out her hair again. "Don't worry, you're a Farron!"

She nodded, then said, "Speaking of which, where's my sister?"

"Still resting. She doesn't have to get up early if she doesn't want to, long as she gets to work on time."

"Must be nice."

"My thoughts, too."

After a moment of quiet, Snow led the way out of the house. Caius and Lightning followed a few steps behind. At first, neither of them said much, but then Caius mentioned something about her being bothered by him waiting for her, which finally got them talking quietly.

Snow let his thoughts drift now. It had been nearly six months since Lightning had returned to them, and they were about halfway through winter now. Eight weeks would put them in early spring, which would give the world enough time to warm up a bit. Serah would only be a bit over six months along. Thankfully, he could go and know that he wouldn't miss the birth – that was something he definitely didn't want to miss. He'd miss her. Still, he figured there was something they could do to keep in touch – video conferencing, maybe. That could work. Besides, the longest he wanted to be gone was a couple of weeks. Any longer, and he'd go crazy. After waiting so long to be with her, he couldn't imagine being away from Serah too–

"Caius, come _on_, I'm a grown woman!" Lightning's sharp voice cut into his pleasant thoughts, startling him.

"Don't be so childish," Caius retorted. "I will stay tonight regardless."

"What, think I can't be alone? That it? Or you plannin' on doin' something when I'm not looking? Oh, you want me to watch you so you don't run off?"

Caius's voice turned so hard and sharp that Snow's first instinct was to bolt. "After all this time, you still can't trust me not to run off? You can be so petty! Lightning, I made a promise that I intend to _keep_."

"You didn't promise to _stay_."

"No, I _didn't_ promise not to run off, but I would think that would be implicit!"

"You're just lookin' for an excuse, any excuse, to shake me up and make me drop my guard, aren't you?"

"And why would I want to do something like that?"

"Guys, seriously, now?" Snow said weakly.

"You get one thing straight!" Lightning was using that sharp tone that enunciated every consonant like a whip crack – not very loud, and it didn't have to be. Snow knew it well. Too well, maybe, no matter how long it'd been since she'd last used it on him. "Don't need your help, didn't ask for it!"

"It is not _help_, it is _courtesy_!"

"Courtesy?" She snorted. "_Courtesy_! What was the agreement we made about being friends? _Less_ time together!"

"Oh, come on, for real?" Snow muttered.

"Not so long ago, you told me you were done fighting with me!" was Caius's retaliatory response.

Lightning sputtered for a moment. "That's… that was–"

"Different, right? Of course it was."

Snow didn't want to get involved, but now he was more curious than ever, even as Lightning stuttered and growled for a moment, apparently trying to come up with some sort of response. When he risked a glance over his shoulder, he saw her scowling at the ground, Caius glaring at her.

"You don't have to go everywhere with me," she said at last.

"This is the first time, Light."

"But that doesn't mean we have to be together all the time, either, Caius."

"Who agreed to be _whose_ companion?"

She scoffed sharply. Snow looked over his shoulder again to see her glaring to the left and Caius glowering off to the right. That argument had been petty, but it was exactly that element that made him think something was lurking beneath the surface – something that set them both on edge.

He didn't dare ask what.

By seven o' clock, they were at the old Academy building. Lebreau was there, looking thoughtful; Snow felt a jolt of adrenaline when he saw Rygdea standing with several men in military uniforms. He didn't recognize any of them, and how different the uniforms looked told him they were probably from the government, which had set up shop in Academia across the city from the Academy building. On the table they surrounded – the same table covered with paint drips that had been here since the building's early days – were several folders, a slightly creased paper map, and a bunch of pens of differing colors scattered everywhere.

"Sir," Snow greeted him, then gave the traditional Cocoon salute. All of them returned it. "What's up?"

"Snow, glad you're here," Rygdea said. "Remember I mentioned the possibility of you goin' over to Academia with me for some serious work? Well, that's what's happenin'."

Silence. Snow blinked at him.

The man smirked. "That means you're goin' to Academia this mornin'."

Snow exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. Expected, though not pleasant. "Okay," he said. "Now, right?"

"Nah. Another hour or two. Want these two to get goin' on the recruits before we get movin' to Academia."

Snow nodded. "Lightning'll hold down the fort."

Rygdea whistled softly. "I'm sorry."

"She'll do great."

He shook his head slightly. "Was talkin' to Mister Purple over there."

Snow hid his smile as he glanced at Caius, who didn't look all that amused. That might have something to do with the fact that he was apparently still upset with Lightning, though.

"'Til it's time, though, you stay here." Rygdea leaned on the table – a table which, despite having paint drops all over it, was still here from the building's early days. "Gotta introduce you to some new folks. Alright, you two," he added, nodding to Snow's companions, "get goin' on your work. Glad to see you back, girl."

She half-smiled and nodded. "Good to be back, sir."

"Good. Scram."

They did; Snow stepped forward, tugging on his shirt in a brief, nervous tic. While he wore the uniform of a commanding officer – and he wasn't sure he was comfortable in it – he didn't feel like one. The stripes on the shoulders said he was a captain. Rygdea had hand-picked him and promoted him to captain immediately, which put him far enough up the ladder that everyone in New Bodhum and the surrounding area called him "sir", but not so far up that he couldn't call Rygdea, who was a rank above him, "sir". Off-duty, no one really called him that, and even Lightning had yet to have a reason to do so. Then again, she just might not like the idea.

Rygdea waved him forward. "Look here."

Snow leaned on the table to look at the map. "Shadowtown?" he murmured.

"Exactly."

"What about it, sir?"

"It's been real silent lately," Rygdea said quietly. "It's like people're afraid to come out of their homes. Life goes on, but it's weird right now. Academia, where we're goin', has its own problems. This mornin', we're tryin' to see if we can get some help talkin' the Cocoon guys down. That thing won't stay up forever. The Academy is already lookin' for ways to keep the eventual fall from bein' a disaster. That's where you come in – use your future-insight to help us some."

Snow frowned. "I'm not sure if saying what I know about the future's a good thing, sir."

"What, you mean changin' the course of history?" Rygdea shook his head. "Don't know much about Caius and the kind of world he came from, but I can tell he doesn't belong here. At all. His presence alone shakes things up. If you think you can save us by shuttin' your mouth, think again."

Snow nodded. He didn't know too much about Lightning's arrangement with Caius aside from what little she'd told them all when they had come back, but he figured there had to be more to it. "Alright, sir, I'll help if I can."

"Good. Now, let's see about sorting stuff out, huh?"

* * *

Caius entered the atrium where they would receive the recruits first, followed by Lightning, to see that several of them were already present. The slapdash lineup of the first day had become much straighter by now, and they lined up somewhat as he came into view. Lightning came up beside him and coughed quietly, clearing her throat.

"Light, if I may," he said quietly, lowering his chin a bit in her direction.

She hummed quietly.

"You are not completely well. If you overwork yourself, you'll relapse."

Her expression soured. She turned her back to the recruits; he did the same. "Stop worrying," she muttered. "I mean it, Caius. I'm a grown woman and I can take care of myself."

"I am merely looking after your welfare."

Both warmth and bitterness touched his heart. It seemed she wasn't sure which to feel. "Really, I'm fine," she said, though gentler this time. "I won't relapse. And–" She swallowed quietly. "Sorry… about getting after you about you staying after hours with me. I, uh… I'm not used to it."

"To what?"

"People doing stuff like that for me. I guess in your case it's called… chivalry, right?"

"Yes. That or stupidity."

The unpleasant feelings faded from her as she flashed him a quick smile. It made him feel better to see it – he quite liked that smile, after all – and to see warmth in her pretty blue eyes. "You're not stupid," she said. "Not even close. Reckless, sure. But not stupid. Well–" The corner of her lips curved a bit more, turning the smile into a smirk. "–not in the usual manner, at least."

"So I _am_ stupid."

"That's not what I meant."

To dispel any possibility of her thinking he was being serious, he smiled at her. "Of course not."

Was that smile contagious? Because she certainly returned it. "Alright, you, let's get to work," she said. Turning to face the recruits, she put both hands on her hips. In her fitted uniform, with yellow sergeant stripes on the shoulders and New Bodhum Security Regiment insignia embroidered on the right breast pocket, she looked both businesslike and beautiful. Or perhaps he just liked a woman in uniform.

The rest of the recruits slowly joined the first group until all fifteen were lined up facing Lightning in the "at attention" stance they'd been taught that first day. She ever so slightly changed her stance, shifting her weight and bringing her shoulders a bit further back. Caius silently admired her stance, liking the long lines she made use of now to make herself look taller and more imposing. Without a doubt, she still had the military in her, and she had fallen back into it perfectly well.

"Good morning," she said. "I was indisposed due to an illness, but I'm back now. Caius tells me you've moved on to the outdoor training area. How's it been?"

To the right, one of the recruits said, "Made me sore, ma'am."

"Oh?" She met his gaze. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all, ma'am."

"Feels good, ma'am," another said.

She leaned closer to Caius's shoulder. "You taught 'em well," she said with a bit of surprise. "It's almost like a tic."

He smirked. "Why, thank you, Light."

"Don't be smug." She returned her attention to the recruits. "Alright! Single file, outside!"

The recruits obeyed immediately; Caius and Lightning brought up the rear. Together, they filed outside to a training area set up a quarter mile from the building. Lightning had them run; Caius let her take command this time. Perhaps it would help her feel better. He suspected she was still achy.

The training area was a moderate-sized collection of divots, tires, logs, driftwood, boulders, and dirt piles. Intended to mimic the land's rough terrain on a small scale as it appeared in this area, it helped ease the recruits into getting used to climbing and running. Here, Caius took over to direct them to run their "usual routine"; they lined up single file and proceeded to trace a common path around the training area, following a well-worn path in the dirt around and around for about fifteen minutes.

"They will be able to move on to training in the terrain soon," he told Lightning.

She frowned at him. "Why is this so important? They're not supposed to be running everywhere. Wait, scratch that, I get it," she said quickly. "Of course. Gotta be prepared for anything."

"Precisely my thoughts, and Rygdea's."

"This was his idea?"

"Indeed. Though, I admit that I… helped convince him."

She nodded. "Think we'll move on to showing them the usual patrol routes next. I think it's time."

"Yes, quite."

Once the fifteen minutes were up, the two ran the recruits through a few more exercises, then called a halt for the mid-morning break. The recruits had fifteen minutes to rest and mill about; Lightning broke away and walked over to a hilltop where she could see the ocean.

Watching her go, Caius hesitated, wondering if he should follow. Many times he had insisted that nothing would change, that their lives would go on as they always had, that they would be subhuman and they could never even be friends. Yet, slowly, over the past six months, while he couldn't say they had gotten that much closer, some of the walls had come down. Sometimes they patrolled together if their shifts were the same, though they didn't always talk that much. She didn't always argue with him. She didn't always say anything at all. She didn't have to – just having a companion at all and knowing she would not spontaneously die one day was enough.

Gathering his courage, he followed her.

He found her atop the hill, sitting on the grass, looking out over the sea. He sat down a small distance from her, careful to make sure he wasn't close enough to make either of them uncomfortable. While she looked briefly at him to acknowledge his presence, she almost immediately went back to gazing at the sea and said nothing. Caius said nothing, either. There was a grassy slope down to the training area behind them and a cliff a few feet away going down toward the beach. The sky overhead was blue, while gray clouds glowed with sunlight even as their bellies hung dark and shadowy beneath, far across the water toward the mountains on the horizon. To the right, where their stretch of sea – a delta, he could see from here, feeding several tributaries – joined the ocean itself several miles out, even more storm clouds could be seen.

Caius took a quiet, deep breath. "How are you feeling?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at him. "Alright. Aching. Still coughing sometimes."

"You will be recovering for a few days yet." He waited to see if she would say more, but she didn't. He nervously tugged on the grass by his hip, trying to think of what to say. Sure, they had walked or sat in silence before, but he really wanted to speak to her and be spoken to for some reason. But what could he say? Even after all this time, did he really know that much about her? He knew her parents had died, she'd raised her sister alone, could have a nasty temper, could smile beautifully and snarl like a wild animal, had been in the military for at least a few years, and had been one of the six l'Cie who had saved Cocoon from complete destruction.

But _her_, and _who_ she was–

"Is this what you dreamed of doing when you were growing up?"

She looked confusedly at him. "What?"

He propped himself on one hand and twisted to look directly at her. "Being in the military."

One hand fell to her knee, where she rubbed the palm across the side of the joint. It was probably sore. "Sort of," she said. "My father was in the military. The Bodhum Security Regiment, in fact. The financial stability that came from his work, as my mom told me, was what made me decide to do it. We got funding even after he died. Benefits, you see. I figured–" She sighed and looked away.

Caius said, "You thought that, if nothing else, if something happened to you, Serah's future would be secure."

Faint surprise registered on her features as she looked at him again. "Yeah. Exactly."

"Was it ever about you at all?"

Her gaze wavered before it fell to the grass. "Sometimes," she murmured. "I wanted to be an officer, but… well, I overworked myself. Ignored Serah. Forgot about my dreams. Got into my work and forgot everything else."

He let the silence settle a moment. "What about now?"

Lightning spoke slowly, as though she were thinking each word over thoroughly before saying it. "Well, now that Serah's safe… now she's with Snow, and she's got a job, and a baby on the way… and Snow has a really stable and well-paying job as a commanding officer, well… I guess I can go for that officer training."

He nodded. "You should, Light."

In the morning sunlight, her eyes of the sky were clear and bright when they met his once more.

Pause. "When will you tell me your real name?"

This elicited a small laugh and a smile out of her. "Eventually," she said. "I'm not… ready, not yet. And I haven't quite– well…" Leaning back on both hands, she gazed over the water before looking sidelong at him. "I guess I haven't forgiven you yet. Sorry about that. Didn't realize."

"That's alright."

"Serah's the only person who knows my real name. Well…" She hesitated, then lifted an eyebrow. "Wait, no, the other five know it. One of our enemies took the guise of Serah and used it around the others." Seeing his blank look, she smirked. "Long story. Someday I'll have to tell you about it. Anyway, I don't tell people it. And she's the only one who knows my middle name."

"Will tell me your middle name, as well?"

"Don't count on it," she murmured, but good-naturedly. "Maybe someday, though. If you behave."

He hesitated. As she looked away again, he started to speak, one more time. He knew they were running short on time now. The fifteen minutes had to be almost up, right? No, it wasn't, he realized. Perhaps it had only been five or so minutes. He went back to plucking the grass. So, he knew now that she liked her privacy. Her life was her own. She didn't like to talk about it. That was alright with him, and something he could understand.

Still, he wanted to know more.

"Lightning…" But he trailed off, not sure what to say. What could he ask her? Frowning slightly, he tugged harder on the grass, even as she gave him a sidelong look and asked what was up. He said, "Nothing," and went back to tugging on the grass until a tuft of it came up by the roots. _Ask her something. Say something_. But no matter how long he sat there, thinking, nothing came to mind. _Say something, Ballad_!

"You must've seen a lot over your fourteen centuries."

Grateful she'd spoken first, he looked at her and nodded. "I have, but I never really paid much attention to any of it."

"Really? Why?"

"My mind was full of concern, fear, and determination to save Yeul," he said, almost shamefully. "The years went by, but as I have said before, they have long stopped meaning anything." He took a breath. "I could no longer see the changing seasons or the way the terrain shifted and weathered. I could no longer see the movement of the stars. I never saw anything after those first hundred years."

"Wasn't much reason for you to," she said. "You probably measured the passage of time by Yeul and not much else. But you did have people around you, right?"

"I was… rather reclusive."

She hummed softly. "Well, now, you've got us. My sister's gonna have a baby, maybe the first of several. They'll grow up and you'll be here to watch. Then there's the rhythm of life – you're not a Guardian anymore. You're a normal person, sort of. It'll be different now."

Saying nothing, he looked at the grass, not so much seeing as blankly staring. She still didn't get it, and he figured she might not until she saw the first person she cared about die of old age. How much would it all mean? The changing seasons, the rising and setting sun, the so-called "rhythm" of life… through these eyes that almost seemed as old as the world itself, none of it meant as much as when his life was mortal, and fleeting.

"Caius, you listening?"

"Yes, I am."

"Do you get it? Hey. I'm serious." He felt something on his arm, near the elbow, and looked to see her hand there. "You're not gonna do any of this alone, and neither am I, okay? It's already different being here and not having to be a Guardian, isn't it? Time will have meaning again."

His brow furrowed. "I am not so sure."

On his forearm, her hand moved a little, the thumb smoothing over the muscle, as she looked him right in the eye and said, "It will. Trust me, it will. Just think–" and she withdrew, leaving a spot that suddenly felt cold. "–we can face the future together, as friends. I mean, it's not what you want, this relationship, but… it's close enough."

Stop staring at her. "Yes, I suppose it is. Thank you, Lightning. I appreciate your effort."

She chuckled. "Don't push it."

A few minutes later, after sitting in silence for some time, she determined it'd been long enough and stood, brushing bits of grass and dirt off her uniform. Together, they went back down the hill. Once the recruits were lined up again, Caius ordered them to march double-file until told to stop toward the beach. Together, he and Lightning directed them along the usual patrol paths for the area. There were winding paths all over the place, from the beach to the hills to the dunes, and all in all there had to be many miles of them. Caius knew that the recruits would be tired from all the marching, but also that Lightning would be well-worn, since she wasn't fully recovered from her illness yet. He wanted to keep that in mind.

* * *

The day grew dark, the air thick with humidity, and the wind almost hot on top of being wet. At six o' clock, Lightning put down the last stack of paperwork with a fresh appreciation for Snow's duties. He was shouldering a lot of responsibility now. The paperwork she had just gone through were all files explaining troop deployment and patrol schedules, which she'd had to approve or disapproved, as long as they fell under her jurisdiction – namely, as the stand-in for Snow, only the New Bodhum area. Without further training, she couldn't approve deployment beyond the dunes or the edge of the fields, nor could she authorize exploratory trips further up and down the beach toward the sea or further inward. In fact, there was a stack thee feet high of paperwork she couldn't approve, which Snow would have to deal with tomorrow. Briefly, she wondered what his day had been like.

As she closed her file, straightened her uniform, and shut down her computer, she decided that Snow had more than earned her sister's hand in marriage.

She closed and locked the office door behind her and pocketed the key, which she had to use in the absence of Snow's biometrics. While it gave her access to the important stuff, a great deal of stuff in the office was closed off to her due to more biometrics. Honestly, the place was locked down fairly tight.

In the lobby, she spotted a man leaning against the wall, who straightened as she approached. She didn't have to see well in the low light to know who it was – the flash of warmth that greeted her, touching her heart was all the answer she needed.

"You seem very tired," he said.

She groaned. Everything ached, her knees were swollen from all the marching, and her feet hurt. "I'm tired, I'm way too hot, sweating in places I shouldn't–" She felt a flash of amusement at his expression of did-not-need-to-know-that. "–and I'm hurting everywhere. Ugh, my joints."

"Well, then, let's go home," he said.

"Ah, so you admit it's home?"

"Certainly."

She smiled and nodded, then led the way outside. There was no sound but the blowing wind, and the world was so dark that she had trouble seeing for a bit. Everything seemed shrouded in velveteen blackness. Shapes slowly arose out of it, but they came slowly, so she walked slowly, checking every step as she did. Caius walked a step behind her, every step sounding far lighter than hers despite his undeniably greater mass.

"How do you do that?"

"Hmm?"

"Walk so quietly."

"A great deal of practice." He spoke with a note of smugness; she rolled her eyes. "I used to hunt every day when I was still training to be a Guardian, and I spent many years after that helping hunt and forage for food. You learn to walk quietly when doing otherwise would mean you go hungry."

"Could you teach me to do that?"

"I suppose I could, yes."

They walked in silence again; Lightning panted slightly as sweat ran down her back. Her skin felt like it had an inch of water on it and her hair was getting heavy from the humidity. Pushing it back with both hands, she pulled it behind her shoulders and split it into three parts, quickly winding them together and pulling them up to expose her neck to the air. She had to work for a minute or two to get everything laced together, but soon she had it off her neck, though some pieces of hair still hung down.

"Those stars are amazing," she murmured, tilting her head back. Pinpoints of light twinkled down at them, most of them silver but some of them bluish or reddish in color, some big, some very tiny. Through it all, a swath of mist slashed from northwest to southeast, apparently even more stars even further away. The more her eyes adjusted, the brighter the stars became.

"Follow me." The sound of his voice startled her, being close to her ear for a moment, but it was a pleasant sort of surprise that she didn't really mind. She heard him walk across the grass and followed, trusting that he knew his footing well enough to find the right path. In a minute or two, they were back up on the hilltop from before, but now the sky was unobstructed and they could see the water. There was no moon save for a tiny sliver behind them, so other than the stars, the world was fairly dark. "Better?"  
She whistled softly. Dead ahead, the storm clouds were closer, and every so often her namesake bloomed beneath them. The distant rumble of thunder sounded angry and primal, but wonderful all the same. Folding her arms, she took a moment to just watch the lightning flashes, somewhat mesmerized.

"Pretty amazing," she murmured. "The stars, the lightning, the water… except for this heat." She rubbed her arms.

"You will get used to it eventually. It's only humid because of the storm."

"Yeah, I was gonna say, winter's usually colder."

"We are fairly close to the equator. Winter is not so different from any other season. Now, farther north–" He turned a bit and gestured that direction. "–it for half the year. It takes a very long time to travel there without our modern conveniences, but it was worth it."

"You been there?"

"No, but I have heard many stories."

Lightning let the silence simmer for a bit. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though she wondered what she ought to say. Say something, her mind told her. She nearly did, but the words died on her tongue, fizzling out as if they'd never existed, and instead she just stood there and felt progressively more awkward by the second. He did need to be told never to touch her again, but now that her anger about him coming to see her, and her shame, had died away…

Was she _still_ ashamed?

Swallowing, she said, quietly, "Caius?"

"Yes?"

"Remember… uh…" When she looked at him to find him looking back at her, she was briefly unable to speak. It was a strange feeling. She quickly overcame this, though, and gathered her courage. She had a feeling he wouldn't like what she was about to say. "Remember when you visited me while I was sick? I wanted to say… I mean…" She exhaled and rubbed her forehead. "When– when you touched me–"

She couldn't identify his emotional response. "I know it was wrong. I already apologized, Lightning."

"Yeah, but… it's still… bothering me."

"I didn't know that it would."

"No, it's–" She chewed her lip, wondering what was wrong with her. Though his voice was strong, it was as silky smooth and soft as honey, and the sound of it made her spine prickle. The voice he had used when confronting her in Valhalla had not been used since that morning's brief argument. Now, the tone he used was so normal, so human, and so smooth and warm that it was almost beautiful. "It's not that. Well…"

"Yes, Light?"

"I…" Her lips didn't want to form words properly, and she looked at him with a measure of shyness. His dark eyes gazed back at her, steadily, but with a softness she wasn't used to seeing. Again, her spine prickled. "Caius, you and I are still– um…" For some reason, his steady gaze was making it very hard to think straight.

"You don't enjoy being touched."

Actually, she didn't exactly mind being touched by him. And it was that very thing that made her so angry, mostly at herself. For too long, Caius had been her mortal enemy. Yet, over these past six months, he had proven he had no intention of backtracking on their deal. He'd tried to run before, but not since.

"Um…" Embarrassed, she kept rubbing her forehead, hiding her face from him. "Look, I, uh–"

"It's alright, Lightning, really."

Relief settled over her, but she couldn't let it go at that. "This is ridiculous, Caius. I say not to touch me, and then, what do I do? I end up touching you." She rubbed her hand across her forehead. "Maybe we should drop that part of the agreement. I mean, I– it's not that I don't like being touched, it's just… I'm not always sure– when you touch me, sometimes, I'm… afraid."

He looked curious, and confusion bubbled up from him. "Afraid?" He hesitated. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No, I'm not afraid of you." She was afraid of what he was doing to her, afraid of what his touch did to her blood and how the sound of his voice stirred her heart, how his shy kindness made it so hard to remember their war, how his patient understanding made him so easy to talk to. "I… can't explain it."

His eyes gazed into hers again, and she returned it, expression neutral, struggling to keep her confused emotions hidden deep within her heart. Thunder rumbled faintly in the earth underfoot; she shivered slightly and rubbed her arms with both hands.

"You're very old, Caius," she murmured. "Even now, are you lonely?"

"Remember when I said I was not lonely with you?" When she nodded, he looked her in the eye. "I was joking then, but not this time. When I am with you, I'm not lonely at all."

Lightning nodded, trying not to blush. It wasn't direct flattery, but he was still complimenting her. In a way, she would be blushing out of self-satisfaction that she was both doing her job right and, for once, able to keep a promise without a misstep. Well, there were the arguments, but that was to be expected.

The soft tone he used, saying those words, almost made her smile.

"Well, uh…" Oh, what did it hurt? "I'm not lonely with you, either. It's like… it's like we can, uh–" What was she trying to say, exactly?

"Speak with understanding? Stand one another's company? Yes," he said, slowly, "I had sensed that as well."

"You're not boring," she said. "Except, you know, when you start getting all philosophical."

Pause. "I do not."

She shrugged, smirking. "Whatever you want to believe, old man." Hesitating, she glanced over the ocean, seeing the flashes of light in the storm clouds, feeling the electrical charge on her skin, tasting prickly humidity on her tongue. "C'mon, let's go home. Thanks for waiting for me."

He nodded. "You are always welcome."

They walked down to the beach and parted ways in front of the house. Lightning headed inside to find Serah lounging in front of the television and dinner in the kitchen. After taking a quick shower, she helped herself to the meal – steamed rice and mashed potatoes, fresh meat from the town butcher, a slab of fish that couldn't have been caught any longer ago than that morning, and fruit salad. She sat beside Serah to eat.

"How was it?"

Lightning chewed a fibrous chunk of melon. "Exhausting," she muttered, "but not awful. How're you doing?"

Her sister shrugged. "Snow's not coming home until about nine or so."

Lightning winced. "Did he call or something?"

"Yeah."

She swallowed and took a few more bites. "It's gonna be a long seven weeks," she muttered.

"Caius walked you home, right?"

Lightning let her fork drop to the plate with a noisy plink. "He did _not_ walk me home!" she growled, not missing the teasing note in her sister's voice. "He waited around 'til I was done to be nice. Look, he's trying really hard to prove he can be something other than a world-destroying terror, okay?"

"Okay, sis, grow a sense of humor!" Serah poked her in the ribs.

Lightning stuffed her mouth full of fruit salad and stared at the television. It was the nightly news, and right now it was a story about a prized chocobo being stuck for several hours in a stable. She chewed, swallowed, and said, "This is really good. Thanks for dinner."

She grinned. "No problem. Glad you like it."

Finishing her meal, Lightning took the dishes to the sink, rinsed them, washed them, dried them, and returned them to the cupboards and drawers where they belonged. Seeing it was creeping up on eight o' clock, she decided it was a good time to go to sleep. Bidding her sister goodnight, she went to her bedroom, put on her nightclothes, and curled up with her blue chocobo, burying her face in it.

* * *

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